One Hundred Stars in the Sky
by Aria Breuer
Summary: I have joined LadyLindariel's 100 drabble challenge. The prompts were created by LadyLindariel. Various worlds and characters make their appearances, ranging from events, parties, adventures, drama, humor, etc. But in the end, we will see, hear and return to Middle-earth. Alternate Universe. Rated T for language. Beta read by REMdream.
1. A Story

**Disclaimers:** I do not own The Silmarillion, The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings and other canon tales about Middle-earth. J.R.R. Tolkien does. All other canon sources belong to their respected owners. The prompts for this one hundred drabble challenge was created by LadyLindariel, Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth and Alku04. I only own the plot, original characters, etc.

I have joined LadyLindariel's 100 Drabble Challenge. These will be made up of both drabbles and one-shots. Also, this time, there will be a variety of characters, canon and original, from various realms, including Middle-earth, shown and interacting with each other, as they did in the first 100 drabble challenge I worked on.

This drabble was sparked by Enya's song "Caribbean Blue".

o-o-o

 **81.) A Story**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **417**

 _A pencil. A pen. A blank slate waiting to be read. The canvas is set. The paint is in line. It's time to draw the first words in ink. A story is waiting to be told, waiting to be seen, waiting to be heard. This tale has yearned to begin its quest, its desires, its many thoughts lying in slumber. This tale is ready to be shown, like stars in the sky awaiting their bequest._

 _Let the story begin now and again. It's time._

Hermione sat down with her two children: Rose and Hugo Weasley. For a bushy haired witch, Hermione showed real class when reading her children a bedtime story. But this bedtime story would be worth their time.

"Rose. Hugo. Come and sit with me," Hermione said. "I think you're old enough for me to read 'The Lord of the Rings'."

"The Lord of the Rings?" Ron Weasley chimed in, sitting at the table with them. "Isn't that a bit too old for our children, Hermione?"

"Oh nonsense, Ron. It isn't the first time a teenager has read the books," Hermione said.

"But it's a brutal story, involving this elf and dwarf who are always battling each other for the most kills," Ron said. "There. The end."

"Ronald, was that really necessary?" Hermione asked, sternly.

"It worked for me the first time," Ron said.

"Will you read it to us, Mum?" Rose asked.

"Oh, very well," Hermione said, opening _The Fellowship of the Ring_ for the first time in years.

"And then there's these hobbits who scour throughout Middle-earth in search of buried treasure," Ron said.

"Ron, you're exaggerating," Hermione said.

"I'm telling you that's the honest truth. Who wants to see a greedy hobbit?" Ron said. His words couldn't have been more true.

"You have a point. But that's not for the next story," Hermione said.

"See? I'm right for once," Ron said.

"Putting that aside, let's begin," Hermione said.

"Aww! You don't like my version?" Ron asked, confused.

"Is it because you're rooting for Gollum, Ronald?" Hermione said.

"Well, when you put it that way," Ron said, sheepish.

"Can I read the story now?" Hermione asked, concerned.

"Oh, go ahead," Ron said, sitting quiet.

"Right then. On with the tale," Hermione said, reading the first words aloud for her children and her husband to hear.

 _When Mr. Bilbo Baggins announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton.*_

o-o-o

Footnotes:

*This paragraph can be found in _The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring_ Chapter 1 "A Long-Expected Party".


	2. Think Fast

The wolves shown in this drabble come from the movie "Storks". :) There is a mention of Middle-earth, but it's also more of a gap-filler for the movie, too.

o-o-o

 **88.) Think Fast**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **215**

The Alpha was in charge. Beta was in second-in-command, but not at times clever. Well, that was the jest of it. And yet, Alpha had to prepare the grand wolf pack on formations.

"Form a wolf plane!" The Alpha interjected.

The pack saluted, preparing for the first transformation. They nearly had it… no. They lost it!

"Why can't we go to Middle-earth?" Beta asked. "It's warmer there."

Alpha growled. "We're not going to Middle-earth, Beta! This isn't vacation time!" He shouted to the pack. "Wolf pack. Form a wolf submarine!"

"Submarine?" The pack asked, quite confused.

"Work with me," Alpha demanded. For a dark grey wolf, he knew what he was up against. He cheered in delight at their half-done submarine. "Good work, wolves! But our work isn't finished yet. We'll practice this formation tomorrow."

"Don't we have the day off?" Beta asked, confused.

"No!" Alpha snarled. He grinned with satisfaction. "Nothing will stop this pack from its formations, even if we have to go through certain measures to get there. Now get back to work!" He hoped the wolves would listen to him. They were an excellent bunch. If only they hadn't been caught off-guard by three unexpected arrivals invading their – his territory. Oh whatever. He would just be prepared for what came next.


	3. Magic

I've had this idea for years that the hobbit Frodo Baggins would be Santa Clause, in some way, or as Santa Baggins, as LadyLindariel put it. :) I couldn't resist! :) The idea sparked from watching the 1996 movie "The Santa Clause".

o-o-o

 **22.) Magic**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **963**

Frodo hardly remembered what had happened and how he got here. No. He corrected that. He did remember what had happened. Magic had taken over his life, but it was a different kind of magic that proved where he stood now.

 _Frodo hadn't been too drunk that night. He left the Green Dragon with the nagging sensation to go up on the roof of Bag End. But the weather was so chilled, his hands trembled from the frozen air. There was much snow on the ground. Surely any decent hobbit would want to stay indoors. He jumped back at the sight of a sleigh, resting on the road near his house._

 _A man with a white beard and a red suit was in the sleigh. He beckoned him forward, offering him a steaming mug of hot chocolate. Just what was hot chocolate? Tea would have sufficed._

" _Ah. I understand. You're not familiar with hot chocolate," the man in the suit said. He laughed merrily. "Come and sit down. There's a blanket to keep yourself warm. Red one. Nice and soft."_

 _Frodo sat down in the driver's seat without complaint. The blanket was soft and warm. The hot chocolate tasted so good. Like something smooth and creamy, but also enough to fill his stomach and warm him up in this cold._

" _Who are you?" Frodo asked the man. "You haven't given me a name."_

" _Father Christmas, as some would say of me," the man said in introduction. "And you're Frodo Baggins. But that name will change in time."_

" _What do you mean? My name is still me," Frodo said, alarmed._

 _Father Christmas laughed again. "No, no, no, Frodo. Your name is you. What I meant is after tonight you will have a title. Not a name change. Just a title to show your value. You'll be the one to take over my job. And this sleigh and reindeer, they have magic, but magic of a different sort. I cannot do this job for too many years. So I must have an heir. That is why you have come."_

" _I'm cold." Frodo shivered. "Couldn't we go inside. I need to warm up Bag End." What was he saying? Or rather… no, he was too cold for this. His nose was turning red and chilled to the bone._

" _Yes, you will. But for now, I need to show you my world," Father Christmas said, slapping the reigns. Frodo didn't know what was happening. His mind drifted, his vision hazy. The wisps of the chilled air caused him to fall asleep… and he woke up, resting on a cozy mattress. The feather pillow was so soft to his touch. He felt like he could fall asleep again… but he couldn't. There was Father Christmas, resting in a chair and coughing badly._

 _Frodo approached the man, concerned and confused. "What can I do?"_

" _Take my place." Father Christmas said. "Wear the suit. It's your size. Be the next Father Christmas."_

" _What… what am I supposed to do?" Frodo asked, confused even more. He looked back, but Father Christmas had turned to dust. Frodo stood in front of the empty chair where Father Christmas was. What could he do now? Not after that… what had happened… how could he go on?_

That was three days ago. Frodo hadn't dared try on the suit, not after what had happened. Well… no. He would be disrespecting Father Christmas' wish. What could he do? The worlds needed a Father Christmas. Was that him? Could it be him? He didn't know what he could do.

"Father Christmas, are you ready?" it was a Christmas elf, donned a green and red suit. "Father Christmas."

"I need a new name. New title," Frodo said. Great. Was he really about to say that? Title sounded far more accurate. He might as well prove himself now. Putting on the red suit and the large boots, a thought occurred to him, as he looked at the elf. "I'm Santa Baggins." He laughed, but it was a good laugh. Maybe he could do this after all…

-.-.-

"Where is Mr. Frodo?" Samwise Gamgee asked, confused.

"Maybe he'll return," Mrs. Gamgee said. "Don't worry, Sam. He'll come."

"I know Mama, but…" Sam's voice was cut off. Ash fell to the fireplace floor. Could it? Could Father Christmas have come? No. It was… it couldn't be… "Mr. Frodo. Look at you. What became of you?"

"Sam," Frodo said, clasping his friend's shoulder, "you have no idea what just happened to me." He related the story to Sam, his parents and his siblings. When the story was finished, he stood up. "Well, now I must leave. There's many worlds, many realms, I need to travel to tonight. I'll be back."

"Mr. Frodo," Sam said, "now that you're Father Christmas…"

Frodo laughed joyously. "That is one name. But you'll know me as Santa Baggins. I'll see you later, Samwise." With a twinkle in his eye, Frodo left Bagshot Row with merriment in his eyes. And so he would continue to lighten hearts for as long as he could. And when the Father Christmas in Narnia relieved him on his position, Frodo came back to Bag End, his heart filled with joy.

Even as time passed, Frodo wouldn't forget how much joy he gave to the hearts of many, scattered across realms and time. For a brief moment, Frodo heard laughter in the wind. Eru Ilúvatar was glad for him and the work that he did. But the journey ahead would change the course of his life once more. He would be changed, but then he had his friends to count on, even in the darkest of times.

And that is the tale of Santa Baggins, or How Frodo Became Father Christmas.

The End.


	4. Try Again

This drabble was inspired by the trailer for Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2. So yes, Rocket and Baby Groot are in this chapter. :)

o-o-o

 **16.) Try Again**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **203**

Rocket did not understand. Yes, he was a raccoon and carried many guns, as well as explosives. But explaining things to Groot, who was now a baby tree-creature, was the most difficult task he had on his shoulders.

"Middle-earth's not going anywhere," Rocket said at random.

Baby Groot looked up, gasping in a lightly voice.

"Now, when I give the word, you keep this bomb safe," Rocket said.

Baby Groot didn't understand. Was it dangerous?

"Here. I'll give a more precise, direct order," Rocket said, trying to explain. "The fate of the galaxy rests on our shoulders. Now whatever you do, don't push this button." He pointed to the button. "It's nothing alarming. Just to keep everyone safe. Now, have you got that?"

Baby Groot spoke up. "I am Groot."

"Yes, you are Groot." Rocket said. "Now what did I say?"

"I am Groot," he pointed to the button.

"NO!" Rocket cried. "We've been this before. Don't…"

"I _am_ GROOT!" Baby Groot took the bomb into a small cave. Would he return? Rocket hoped he did. But then, it was Groot he was talking about. When did he not listen?

"Oh great." Rocket charged towards the nearest tunnel. He would find Groot yet.


	5. Star

Sorry for the long delay. I was working on finishing a few of my stories. Well, now I'm back and let's see how many drabbles I get through for today. :) This drabble is a crossover between The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings.

o-o-o

 **26.) Star**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **282**

Tauriel had seen it coming. Her star was bright, but even through the pain of losing Kili was no match for her sorrow and tears. And yet, she bore the only light that would prove essential for passing her flame onto another: it was a star. A star so bright that shone through even in the darkest times. Some called it the predecessor of the Star of Earendil. Others could only question its beauty and magnificence.

She stole it from the Greenwood, before it fell and became Mirkwood.

"What have you there?" asked a dark haired elven princess.

"Lady Arwen," Tauriel said, "forgive me. I've present you and your father a gift."

"The lost star," Arwen answered. "This is most precious."

"And valuable to the Elven-king," Tauriel said. "If you would, I would ask for lodging. I dare not stay long."

"Of course, but why hand me a stolen artifact from Mirkwood?" Arwen asked, sensing Tauriel's true reason.

"It's not stolen if no one has claimed it," Tauriel said. "Forgive me. I must leave now." She added, once on her horse. "You can tell Legolas, when you see him, that the star belongs to his father. He will see to it then."

"You will still give me a stolen artifact?" Arwen asked her.

"Forgive me. I must go now. Thank you, Lady Arwen." Tauriel said last, "Forgive me." Her horse bucked, bolting out of the valley before it was sunset. She hoped Legolas would receive her message in time. If not… well, she felt sure he would receive that message. "Consider it a favor over lost times."

For indeed, some things were lost. The star wasn't lost anymore. Or so they say.


	6. Doors

Here I go again. Writing, this time, a drabble while I've caught a cold. And somehow, I couldn't resist bringing Frodo into the drabble. :)

o-o-o

 **14.) Doors**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **276**

Where was he? Well, that was the first question on Frodo Baggins' mind. He remembered this sea of darkness. Never ending darkness that wouldn't forebode. He was all right, right? Well, not for long, not when he opened his eyes… wait. His eyes were opened. But where was he exactly?

He took a good look around. He was in a room surrounded by doors. Each door looked unique in its own fashion. Maybe he should open one door… and be surrounded by a bunch of cats. He quickly slammed the door shut, only to see one bluish-grey cat slip in through the cat door, back to his cat buddies. Wait. Buddies? Frodo shook the thought off. Maybe he would try another door… and to be greeted by poker playing dogs.

Wait. Was he missing something?

As if that wasn't enough, the next three doors showed a world full of peculiarities, a room displaying robed men and women brandishing bladed weapons, and a steely man known for shooting laser beams out of his eyes. Just what was going on? Okay, so the world he experienced was either caught in its own time loop or was named Wonderland, the weapons were lightsabers and the men and women were Jedi, and the steely man… was either Superman or Cyclops.

Wait. Just how did he know that?

Was there no way, no how, Frodo could leave this dream. He belted a scream… and jolted awake. He hadn't screamed that much, but his throat hurt. It was dark outside. He was alone in Bag End once more, in his room. Whatever that dream was, he could conclude that it was strange.

o-o-o

The fandoms featured are as follows: Wonderland, Star Wars, the painting with the dogs playing poker, DC and Marvel.


	7. Intimidation

The idea for this drabble was sparked by Pip the Dark Lord of All. It features the Fellowship of the Ring, trying to be villains. This idea was also sparked by the Oh My Disney's OneRepublic Cover for "Counting Stars".

o-o-o

 **1.) Intimidation**

 ** _Word Count:_** **780**

In the dark hovel that was Minas Tirith – now called Minas Hollow – the remaining members of the Fellowship of the Ring were forging their plans on how to convince the rest of Middle-earth that they were to be the new rulers. Dark rulers, but rulers nonetheless.

"Merry," Pippin Took cackled, "when is our new plan ready?"

Merry purred. "Soon Pippin. Then I will be the ruler of Minas Hovel."

"It is pronounced Hollow, my friend," Aragorn glared darkly.

Merry mouthed in sarcasm his Ranger friend's words. "Hmm."

"Yes Merry," Pippin spoke grimly.

"I wanted Minas Tirith. Not this hovel." Merry harped at Aragorn. "And who made you king of the castle?"

"Silence!" Gandalf cried, shooting a lightning bolt in front of Merry, directed at the hobbit's sandwich, charring it to pieces.

"You charred my sandwich!" Merry complained.

"You would have gotten another one," Gandalf said, cheekily.

"I'll do whatever I like!" Merry sat down, pouting.

"Well, you can't blame Gandalf, Mr. Merry," Sam spoke up, his eyes glaring at the map. "I will be the ruler of Bag End."

"I wonder where Frodo's gone," Pippin said. "It isn't like him to—"

"This arrow will stick in you, Gimli," Legolas said, pointing his elven arrow at the auburn dwarf's chest.

"Hm," Gimli fired back. "Well, you can stick that arrow at any orcs passing through. Or else I'll stick it in your—"

"Gimli!" Aragorn shouted.

"This is no fun!" Gimli said.

"You're one to talk," Legolas said.

"I will deal with you later, elvish princeling." He turned to the hobbits, "And don't eat my sandwich."

"You know, you're not convincingly evil, Gimli," Pippin said.

Gimli rushed towards him. "I warn you, hobbit. Next time we meet, one of us will pay."

"There. That was evil," Pippin said.

"Where's Frodo?" Merry asked.

"Hatching his plan," Pippin said.

"I'll go and find him," Sam said. "And don't eat my sandwich."

"Unless Gandalf chars yours too," Merry said, briefly catching Gandalf's glare.

Sam, on the other hand, found himself already in a dark terror. The second he stepped outside, he found Frodo, looking at his hand. Sam had no idea how long they could keep up this charade, but some were enjoying the darkness too much, while others in their fellowship were already learning how to be good. The intimidation to be evil was growing upon them, but he himself wasn't sure—

"Sam, you've come," Frodo said, his words sullen.

"Mr. Frodo, how long can we—" Sam couldn't breathe. He stared again at Frodo, but his face was hollow and unkind. He wasn't himself. "Mr. Frodo, please—"

"All of this happened because of a Ring. Sauron's ring. And I intend to destroy it when I'm good and ready." Frodo threw Sam against the wall, releasing him on the spot. "I could have – you know how many times I've wanted to end this. Cease this. But our friends have gone rogue and evil because of what I've done. Even if I could stop it," a small evil grin creased his face, "well. There's no telling what would come from it, would there?"

"Mr. Frodo, you are not you. I've tried to convince the others, but they're—"

"Not listening," Frodo grunted. "And why am I not surprised? They don't have the hang of it as I do. Being evil. I've had practice." He told him, serious, "And there's nothing we can do to stop them."

"Unless you destroy the ring," Sam said.

"What Sam?" Frodo turned, his eyes widened and his face alarmed.

"Destroy the ring. Come on, Mr. Frodo, destroy it—"

Those words reverberated in Frodo's mind. He was no longer at Minas Hovel or Minas Hollow. No. He was inside Mount Doom, at the heart of the mountain. He had to destroy the ring. He must. He was still good – and then Gollum had to step in and bite his finger off. He was all right, but for a split second he saw the fates of his companions.

Even after he and Sam made it out of Mordor, recovering from what had happened, one thing was clear: for a moment, Frodo knew, he just knew, that he had turned evil. But the important thing that mattered now was he was himself again. A good, decent hobbit. And that's all that he needed to know.

As for the fate of Frodo and Sam's companions, Frodo sighed in relief when he awoke inside the white tents, on the Fields of Cormallen. Their companions were alive, well and, yes, they were good again. Not that they weren't bad, but… he sighed. That sure was one strange hallucination. No doubt about it.


	8. Pastime

This drabble was inspired by the Saturday Night Live skit "Dunkin Donuts". This may get a little crazy. :)

o-o-o

 **44.) Pastime**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **554**

Hermione Granger stood in front of the camera, her microphone good and ready. "Greetings! I am Hermione Granger, here to take a quick tour of the Green Dragon inn, courtesy of our host: Pastime George. Now you may think this is strange, but we're about to go into dangerous grounds. So sit tight. Here we go."

Hermione entered the pub, surprised to see hobbits around during the lunch hour. She gestured to the cameraman. "Come on. We're right inside—" She stopped as a few hobbits punched their way through. "—a rousing ordeal with a bunch of fighting hobbits. Hm. Anyway, we're here to ask various hobbits what their pastimes are." She whispered to the camera. "We may run into some scrupulous characters along the way." She managed to reach her first hobbit. "Ah. Merry Brandybuck. How are you?"

"Are we filming?" Merry asked her.

"Why yes, we are," Hermione said. "Merry, and this is for Pastime George: what is your favorite pastime?"

"Pastime George, eh," Merry was confused. He answered as best he could. "What's my pastime? Being in the Green Dragon with my friends." He turned to Hermione. "Call me later. So we can talk." He looked up. "Pippin! Pippin wait…" He rushed off, leaving Hermione and the cameraman alone.

"Okay. That was weird," Hermione looked at her notecards again. She turned to the camera. "Let's go look for another hobbits, amidst the chatter – whoa!" She jumped back as one hobbit threw another hobbit onto a table.

"Hey!" Frodo Baggins shouted at the two fighting hobbits. "Be careful with him! He's very sensitive!"

"Okay, and look. Here's Frodo Baggins now… playing poker," Hermoine said, staring at the playing card table, where Frodo and his best friend, Samwise Gamgee, were playing poker. Frodo looked up at her for a moment.

"Want a hand? We're playing poker, at the moment," Frodo said, ready to shuffle the cards.

"Frodo, and this is from Pastime George, saying: what brings you pleasure in your pastime?" Hermione asked.

"Okay. I don't know this Pastime George," Frodo said.

"Just tell us how you feel? What's your pastime?" Hermione asked.

Pippin wrapped an arm around her, facing the camera. "Hobbits rule! Pippin will be king someday!"

"You will not, Pippin," Frodo said. He shouted, "What's with all the noise? We're playing here."

"Thank you for asking," Hermione said, trying to move away. Except Pippin still had his arm around her.

"Hobbits rule!" Pippin said, grinning at the camera.

"Oh would you mind," Hermione said, serious.

"It's Hobbits for the win," Merry said, coming up behind her.

"Whose turn is it, Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked Frodo.

"I don't know. There's too much noise," Frodo said.

"Anyway, Pastime George will be here soon," Hermione said.

"You still haven't told us who Pastime George is—" Frodo was cut off by a tall ginger-haired boy. "Who are you?"

"Who am – who am I? I'm Pastime George," George said, smiling.

"George Weasley, what are you doing?" a ginger-haired middle aged woman shouted.

"Got to go," George said, zipping out of the crowd.

"Yes, well. This has all been very interesting," Hermione said.

"Next time, will you let me play?" Pippin asked Frodo.

Frodo chuckled. "Of course I will, Pippin. Next time."

"Turn it off," Hermione said, a moment before the screen turned blank.


	9. Opportunity

Okay, so this drabble was inspired by the Saturday Night Live skit "Undercover Boss: Starkiller Base".

o-o-o

 **77.) Opportunity**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **315**

 _Sauron is about to go undercover at Cirith Ungol as Kevin, the Lonely Orc Mongrel. This demonstration will allow Sauron to see what his orcs are doing daily. It is also a great opportunity for some laughs… we hope._

The orcs moved to and fro about the tower, some were drinking while others were just plain having fun. Even annoying themselves. What they didn't expect was the hunched orc mongrel that walked in through the tower door.

"I'm Kevin. Be nice, you lot!" Sauron declared. "Now, what have we got here?" He approached two orcs. "So, what do you lads think of Sauron? Isn't he the most incredible dude you ever came across?"

"All right, Kevin," the orc drew his sword. "What's your purpose here with Sauron?"

"Why don't you just put the sword down this instance," Sauron threw the sword away with a wave of his hand. "Now tell me: _what do you think of Sauron?_ "

"Easy," the second orc told him.

"We know nothing about Sauron's lineage. Sauron is a decent lord, but he sure has a hot, fiery temper," the first orc declared.

"See. That wasn't too hard," Sauron released the first orc.

"You've got to be kidding me," the second orc addressed him. "If you talk that way to my friend again, I'll…"

"Ooh," Sauron hissed. "Who says he's your friend? What about those dudes?"

"Dude," the first and second orc said in unison.

"Well, as you should know, I'm…"

"Sauron," the orcs said in unison.

"We knew that," the first orc told Sauron.

"Let me speak with you at Barad-dur." Sauron told the two orcs. "There's something I need to show you." The second he reached his tower, he slew the two orcs, leaving them for the fell beasts. He turned to the camera, shaking his head. "Turn the camera off. NOW!"

The camera shook, and then turned to black.


	10. Not what I had in mind

So yes, we're back with Frodo Baggins as the lead. This drabble's based off a story that I started a while ago, but didn't get around to finishing. It should be interesting. :)

o-o-o

 **66.) Not what I had in mind**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **301**

Frodo Baggins sat on the hospital bed. He didn't want to do this. This wasn't what he had in mind… actually, this was not what he had in mind. Couldn't he just go home?

"Frodo," one of the nurses showed up. "It's time for you to lay back."

"Will this take long?" Frodo asked. His legs were trembling. "Please. I really should be back at Tol Eressea. My uncle…"

"Can surely wait," the nurse said, moving Frodo onto the bed. "This will help sterilize the wound. This won't take long."

Frodo breathed. POKE! His insides were swirling… he was drifting off to sleep… and entering a vast array of worlds. His vision was shifting. There was Shelob, ready to strike at him. She was just about to… no. She was gone. The venom was leaving his body.

He moved. There was the Nazgul. The wound was so strong… the poison was leaving his body, too.

"Frodo… Frodo!" It was Elrond's voice. Frodo opened his eyes. He was safe and back in the elven healer's house. He was healed. He certainly felt like it.

"Did you have a nice sleep?" Celebrian, Elrond's wife, asked the hobbit.

"I feel better," Frodo said. "That dream started out very strange. I was in a hospital. And then the vision shifted. There was Shelob, but… she and the venom left my body, as did the Nazgul wound. Am I healed?"

"How do you feel?" Elrond asked him.

"Better." Frodo nodded. "Much better."

"Get some rest," Celebrian said.

Frodo nodded again. He would enjoy that sleep, now that he was recovered. Maybe now he could do whatever he wanted, whatever he liked. For now, there was this moment and that's all he needed right now. The point was he was healed. And that was good news indeed.


	11. Sweets

This is one of those experimental drabbles, in which I experiment with the characters, the plot, and the scene shown. I've kind of been out of writing for the past week, so hopefully, this'll help bring some sparks back into my writing. Let's see how it goes. :) Jack Sparrow from "Pirates of the Caribbean" and the Beast from "Beauty and the Beast" also make their appearances in this drabble.

o-o-o

 **51.) Sweets**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **259**

It was midday at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. One could admit Diagon Alley in the Wizardry World was a busy place around the school year. But one could not have foreseen the number of people arriving at the parlor, especially one particular hobbit, who hadn't expected too much for the day…

"Butterscotch, please," Frodo Baggins asked, passing to the wizard some Galleons.

"Rough day," Fortescue asked.

"If only," Frodo said.

"Hey!" said a squeamish fangirl. "It's Frodo Baggins."

"I should run now," Frodo said, just as he was grabbed by a… a beast.

"Sit down," Beast said, forcing the hobbit to a chair. "Rough day."

"Well, now it is," Frodo said, drinking his soda and coughing. "What's in that?"

"Rum!" the pirate captain Jack Sparrow said. "I may have put in a little kick of vinegar."

"Vinegar!" Frodo cried. "No wonder it tastes awful."

"What's it to you how it tastes?" Jack asked, beside himself.

"Well, this day couldn't be more interesting," Frodo said.

"Oh look, I found a penny," Hermione Granger said, picking up the copper coin.

"I rest my case." Frodo said, grateful to have his ice cream. Only it was too cold. Could this day get any worse? Well, next to the goose and those quarters and the funny man wearing a top hat… yes, he resided to leaving the parlor. How could this have turned out to be such a bad day? Honestly, this was one day he hadn't planned out thoroughly. He just hoped that tomorrow was better than this day. Yes indeed.


	12. Resistance

Here's an idea that I got while watching some of the behind the scenes for "The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King": how long can a hobbit last without going after some food? In this case, cookies. I know, it's ridiculous, but let's see how it goes. :)

o-o-o

 **56.) Resistance**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **337**

Pippin Took had been given a note, which read plain and simple: _Don't Touch the Cookies_. Pippin was very confused and agitated.

"Eh. I wonder what that means," Pippin said. He was grievously mistaken… or correct. In front of the kitchen table was a plate filled with biscuits. Now he understood. And they looked so yummy. Couldn't he just… ZAP! Pippin's hand flew back to him. "What was that?"

"That is our resistance timer," Merry Brandybuck said. "It's to see how long we can last without eating food."

"What?" Pippin asked, depressed. "But Merry, we eat food."

"I know, Pippin. The longest any hobbit has gone without touching sweets has been fifteen minutes," Merry said. "That's the longest any hobbit has gone."

"Hmm… so be it." Pippin plopped himself down on a chair. "I'd love to see how long we can survive this endurance test."

 _Fifteen Minutes Later…_

Pippin rubbed his forehead. "This is nonsense." He complained on the spot. "How long does it take before that barrier is lifted."

"Well, at least we're not walking through walls," Merry said.

"Hullo." Frodo Baggins said, entering the kitchen. "Ah. A present for me."

"No. Frodo, don't—" Merry called, but it was too late. The second Frodo reached for the biscuits, his hand was zapped back.

"Ouch!" Frodo cried, shaking his hand. He turned to Merry and Pippin. "You didn't tell me there was a forcefield."

"We didn't expect it," Pippin said.

"I think I'll grab an apple. I'll see you later," Frodo said, heading out into the hallway.

"See you," Merry said, waving his hand. He told Pippin, "Fifteen more seconds… ah. The barrier's lifted."

Just like that, the barrier was gone. The biscuits were open to anyone.

"I'll grab them," Pippin said, rushing towards the biscuits at the same time as Merry and Frodo. Pippin was lucky to have grabbed two. "There. You see. We did it."

"Rosie's favorite snack," Frodo said.

"Ah. It's good to be hobbits," Merry said, as his cousins nodded in agreement.


	13. Death

Well, I'm in the Phantom of the Opera mood since working on my Blue Rose fanfic. But this is a scene that I wanted to do, which didn't make it into the Blue Rose this time around, but it will show up here. So here it is. :)

o-o-o

 **42.) Death**

 ** _Word Count:_** **486**

Frodo Baggins, a curly brown haired hobbit with blue eyes and, usually, in a perky mood. That was not the case today. Today, he was in the cemetery, in front of his parents' tombstones. He knew where they were. The point of coming here was to present to them a white rose, in honor of their passing.

"I know you will find this unconventional, but I'd thought I would pay my respects," Frodo said. "Unconventional. Well, I hope you are both doing well. I miss you. But I know that death is not the end. There is always hope." He sighed. "My friends taught me about friendship and love, but Sam is seeking a bride for me. I told him not to, but he won't listen at times. Or perhaps I have trouble listening." A tear streaked down his face. "I hope you both are doing well."

For a moment, he thought he saw a hobbitess in a black dress wandering through the graveyard. He wanted to follow her, but something was pulling him back. He looked again. The hobbitess vanished in a bright light. So, he was alone after all.

"Mr. Frodo," Samwise Gamgee, a curly brown haired hobbit with the need for home, said. "Are you all right? I couldn't help overhearing."

"Sam, you don't have to choose a bride for me," Frodo said, facing him with a calm demeanor.

"Choose – Mr. Frodo, I just want you to be happy." Sam said. "Marrying Rosie was the best thing that happened for me. And I know that whoever lass comes – and I hope she comes quickly – is the best way to go to make you happy. You'll have children. You'll live a full and complete life—"

"Sam, if I choose a bride, it will be in my own time." Frodo said. "You can't just force marriage upon someone. It takes time and patience. No. Not yet. Not for me just now."

"Mr. Frodo, when will you be ready to marry?" Sam asked him in turn.

"When the time comes, Sam," Frodo faced him again, a warm smile on his face. "With time, Sam. Then you'll know."

"That isn't an obvious answer," Sam said.

"Well, some of us take longer to find the ones we love, don't we Sam?" Frodo asked, walking away from his parents' tombstones. He would find the right woman. He just didn't want to be pressured into marriage too quickly. It didn't feel right that way. Still, he couldn't help thinking that Sam reaped the benefits of the quest over him. Which made Frodo wonder: what did he get from the quest? He would probably always wonder that question, maybe unto the end of his days. In the meantime, he would do what he could not to be a burden to Sam, as the gardener hobbit spent his days with his family and friends. That was for the best, wasn't it?


	14. Mourning

Okay, so while this follows after the Death drabble, it's from a different timeline Frodo is in. Also, they're pretty much following the same theme. So why not? Anyway, let's go.

o-o-o

 **73.) Mourning**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **309**

Frodo shut the door to his room. It was very still, almost as ominous as when he first stepped foot inside Brandy Hall for the first time. But that time was different. That first time was after the loss of his parents.

He couldn't take it. He was twenty-one. Shouldn't he be more focused on other matters. He was about to move to Bag End. But this moment… he needed time to himself. Time to think… time to breathe. Tears started trickling down his face, running down his cheeks. He collapsed on the bed. He didn't feel like doing anything. The warm quilted covers felt so comforting. He looked about his room for a split second. The green plant inside the large vase certainly held its… its purpose…

He wept. He couldn't stop. He wept silently. For a moment, he thought his aunt would come to his aide… or his uncle. Did they hear him? Maybe they did. He couldn't help mourning. He lost his parents. It was so long ago, but the tears were still present. He didn't know how he would get over this feeling. He felt so empty.

And yet, he awoke with the strangest sensation. He was hungry. He had slept peacefully, but he felt so alone. Depression was the worst moment he endured. Maybe some food would lighten his spirits. Or people. He wiped the dry stains off his cheeks from where the tears had dripped down his face. It was the least he could do. He stood up, opened the door, and left his bedroom, ready to start the day. He would be leaving for Bag End soon. That's all that mattered to him in this moment. It was the only thing he could count on to get him through the day.

He would not miss this chance. Not by a long shot.


	15. Triumph

This drabble involves Frodo and Legolas, as well as their fangirls. Batman belongs to DC Comics.

o-o-o

 **8.) Triumph**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **343**

"Is it in ten minutes or so?" Frodo asked the limousine driver.

"Give it time and… oh yeah. This is my jam!" the driver said, playing some really loud music.

"Hey! HEY!" Frodo knocked on the driver's door, which opened, revealing Batman. "What? What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to ruin your party," Batman said, jamming to his music.

"Stop the car," Frodo shouted.

"What? I'm sorry. My jam is playing so loud! It's so cool!" Batman said, skidding the car to a halt. "And we're here. Sorry for the bumps and such. This limousine doesn't have seatbelts in the back or in the front."

"Thank you," Frodo said, queasy. He managed to get out of the limo, taking several deep breaths.

"Are you alright, man?" Batman asked him.

"I'm a hobbit," Frodo said. "A gentle-hobbit, but yes I'm a man of sorts."

"Goodnight," Batman said, zipping away with the limo and screaming. "THIS. IS. SO. MY. JAM! BATMAN ROCKS!"

"See you," Frodo said, waving to the limo as it disappeared. He straightened his back. Yes, he was at the right place. The place where he would be doing photo-ops, time with fans, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. For now, he just need to walk up the red carpet, enter past the gold frames doors, and… no way. Legolas had already arrived with a swarm of fangirls. "Excuse me. Thank you."

"Legolas! Legolas is coming near me! Legolas, I love you so much! Eeek!" one of the squeamish fangirls squealed.

"Thank you, thank you!" Legolas, the blonde-haired elf smiled his prized smile.

Frodo shook his head. Ah Legolas. Typical.

"Typical," Frodo said. Wait. I just said that… "Anyway, when do I see my fans?"

"Frodo!" said a bunch of fangirls, rushing towards him.

"Eh…" Frodo rushed towards the door. He just made it, managing to get past security to his designated booth. He just made it to the table, sat down, when the fangirls crowded around him. "At least I made it. Triumph for me. Now," he readied his supplies and photos. "Whose first?"


	16. Distance

I don't often write Grey Havens fanfics, but I was in the mood for this one.

o-o-o

 **11.) Distance**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **391**

Frodo knew his time had come. He was setting sail from Middle-earth to the Undying Lands. He knew that much. His curly brown hair whipped with the wind. The clear water reflected the bright sunlight. He had chosen his best clothes to wear today. Blue suited him then. But he paid no mind to the apparel or his hair or anything to do with himself.

This was the time to pass his book onto Samwise Gamgee, the brown-haired hobbit who was now his closest friend. He couldn't give the book to just anyone, but he did. He chose Sam to continue the tale without him.

"This is your job now," Frodo told his best friend. "To write the stories of Middle-earth, your experiences. All of it. You're right, Sam. The story must go on, but without me."

"Mr. Frodo," Sam wept. "Don't leave. Please."

Frodo embraced him. He could feel hot tears reach his elvish grey cloak. Sam really didn't want him to leave. Frodo held back his own tears, but it was hard. He'd done his mourning, hadn't he? It was time to distance himself, not in any manner that was bad, but as a way of knowing that he would see his friend again someday. He released his hold on Sam, kissed his forehead and bid him farewell.

"We'll meet again. You are a Ring-bearer." Frodo said. "One day, you will see the Undying Lands, too."

"It is time, Frodo. It is time to move on from this land and into the next," Gandalf, an elderly wizard with silvery flowing hair and donned in white robes, said to Frodo.

"It is," Frodo said, moving away from Sam and approaching Gandalf. But not without waving to his friends one last time – Merry Brandybuck, a brown-haired hobbit with a nerve for horses and maps, and Pippin Took, an innocent hobbit who learned maturity on their quest, included – before walking across the elvish ship's deck. The ship was so elegant. His journey was at last complete. It was time to heal. It was time to be free of the pain that he endured, his wounds included. He would be better soon. He knew he would with every last breath he took in his body, as the ship sailed across the sea to Tol Eressëa, where his new journey was about to begin.


	17. Cloak

Alright, so it took me a while to figure out which drabble to do next and who would star in it. So, here we go with Elladan and Elrohir. :)

o-o-o

 **10.) Cloak**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **371**

Elladan, with flowing dark hair and fair features, similar to his brother Elrohir, the great mischief maker, had torn a hole in his silver cloak. His silver cloak! Just what he needed to begin the day. But how was he to tell his Ada, Lord Elrond Half-elven, who also sported dark hair? How was he to inform his father about this atrocity? How…

"Elladan," Elrond was right behind him. "What's happened to your cloak?"

Elrohir shook his head. "Apparently Elladan favors ripping his cloak while stitching it together."

"I'm sorry, Ada," Elladan pleaded with his father. He was twelve, after all. "It won't happen again." He passed the cloak to his father. Maybe now his father would let him ride a horse.

"Hmm." Elrond looked at the cloak fondly. "I'll have the tailors fit you for a new cloak. Now go on."

"Yes Ada," Elladan rushed up to Elrohir, leaping onto his back. "See Elrohir? See? I knew our father would let us down easily."

"Let me down. You're killing my back!" Elrohir squealed, shoving Elladan off of him.

"Boys, behave yourselves," said their silver haired mother, Celebrían. She turned to Elrond, who passed her the silver cloak. "What happened?"

"Our son, Elladan, has ripped his cloak again," Elrond said, serious.

"Sorry Ada," Elladan and Elrohir said at the same time.

"Yes, we'll have the tailor mend this cloak as best we can." Celebrían then turned to Elladan and Elrohir, telling them both, "In two days is your birthdays. We'll see about getting you both new cloaks."

"Yes!" Elladan and Elorhir cheered.

"See brother?" Elladan said, pushing his brother around. "See? I told you we'd get new cloaks."

"Someday, you're going to listen to me," Elrohir told his twin, serious.

"I doubt that, Elrohir," Elladan said, running away from his brother.

"They'll grow out of it, Elrond," Celebrían said, cheery-eyed.

"I very much doubt they will," Elrond said, winking at her.

And, as it happened, two days later, Elladan received a new cloak for his birthday and did much playtime with it. However, it left a disgruntled Elrond, once again, letting the tailors mend his son's new cloak. Oh, the good ol' days to be an elf: they never grow old.


	18. Song

I had a hard time with this prompt, figuring out mainly how I was going to pull it off. So now, I've figured it out and yes, Frodo's in this drabble, too. Enjoy. :)

o-o-o

 **32.) Song**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **445**

It began with a note. A single thread waiting to play. The note was high pitched, but worth every ounce. One note turned into two. The melody played as the harp moved with it. The lighter-than-fair fingers pressed against the keys, striking each with a gentle touch. The key changed to a soft hum, a soft note that could only mean either solemnness or hope.

Frodo Baggins played these notes with such grace, even going as far as singing his own tune… or rather starting to, "Where have I gone to, without you? Where did my life go, without that song? Oh, the Shire, the Shire plays its notes well. But where did you go from here?"

Pearl Took showed up behind him, her fingers dabbling through his soft, curly brown hair. She, too, sang her song, flicking her golden hair around. "Where were you, I wonder? Where did you go? I'm starting to know, but then…" She briskly shoved her fingers out of Frodo's hair with such force he nearly lost his place on the wood cased piano. She continued to sing her song in most elegant way imaginable. "If only I knew where you started to stray."

"I didn't know."

"Oh yes! You did know."

"No I didn't!"

"How could you know?" Pearl belted out in tune. "You never said goodbye." Frodo struck a hard chord, jumping up from his seat and facing her. Pearl sang softly, frightened now, "Did you say goodbye?"

"How could I?" He spoke, serious. "You were the one who left me behind, didn't you?"

"I didn't know," Pearl sang in elegant fashion.

Frodo joined in, also singing his tune in turn. "Yes, you did know."

"How could I know?"

"It's hard to say."

"Yet you were there with me." They sang together, finishing off as the music played behind them. "You weren't there for me."

Pearl turned to leave, only she couldn't. Frodo's hand was on her wrist. She dared look into his eyes as he spoke to her, "If only you could… say goodbye."

"Yeah right," Pearl said, lunging into his arms and planting a kiss on the lips. Frodo felt the intensity rising from that kiss. He wanted it to end, but the moment was so passionate that he woke up… back in his own bedroom, wondering what had just transpired in the dream. At least the moon shone brightly in his bedroom, reflecting off the wooden writing desk, vases with green plants, his dresser and his king-sized bed. He was back at Bag End. Obviously.

"Whoo," he sighed in relief, speaking not singing. He landed on the mattress again, saying aloud, "What an intense dream."


	19. Monsters

Working my way back into fanfiction again, and I just saw the live-action remake for "Beauty and the Beast". This one-shot came about because of it, and I also got an idea from it. Okay, let's go. :)

o-o-o

 **47.) Monsters**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **715**

Frodo Baggins sat on his comfortable mattress. The quilted top cover, draped over by a red silk cloth, felt soft to the touch. He wanted to sleep, but he couldn't. He couldn't stop thinking about his Uncle Bilbo and how he left the Shire for Rivendell. Then also Gandalf the Grey, the wizard in the grey robes, leaving Bag End afterwards on important matters. He was alone, alone to his own thoughts and dreams, whether they be good dreams or nightmares.

He had to look up now. Wind blew across his curly brown hair. He looked at a mirror now. A glass mirror, but a mirror nonetheless. His fair face reflected in the glass, his bright blue eyes piercing through. His clothes being from the country, and yet the blue dress shirt and green knee breeches retained his youthful appearance. He ignored this, focusing inside on his reflection. It changed now and again to a hideous furry brown monster, wearing large clothes.

Frodo approached the mirror now. There was no stopping it. He had to see for himself just what it was that was so mesmerizing about the mirror. His hand planted against the glass. A change came over his body. His arms, legs and face was turning furry. And there was that monster, the beast. But no. He was a beast, too, but for what. It made no sense. Did he do something wrong?

"Look inside yourself," the Beast told him. "It is not what's on the outside that counts."

Frodo moved his hand away from the mirror. The fur was fading away. He was himself again. But something did not make sense. "I don't understand. What was that?"

"It is your future," the Beast answered. "Do you wish to live a lonely life? You must choose. Find love or…"

"I gave up on…" he looked down at his hand, "…loving…" he winced. That was the wrong thing he wanted to say. He looked at the mirror again, heartbroken. "I have my friends. Bilbo's gone, but he's alive. That's all I need."

"Is it?" the Beast asked, curious. "We are all monsters in some form. It's how we break through that, that will be important."

"What can I do?" Frodo asked him, curious. "I need to know."

"No. You already know," the Beast said, curtly. "Now find what you desire and take it. Take it with all your heart, all your soul, or end up like a beast, like me." He belted with a loud roar. " _Awaken!_ "

Frodo's eyes snapped open. He was asleep in his bed, underneath the warm covers and on top of his soft mattress. The pillow felt so soft, so comforting. He wanted to sleep in, he wanted to forget, but he couldn't. Memories flooded back inside himself. His quest, his journey, all the pain he had to endure. And that dream. The Beast… he was asking him to find love again. His best friend, Samwise Gamgee, already had that when he married Rosie Cotton, the prettiest hobbitess in all the Shire. Sam was lucky to have met someone. Just thinking of the happy couple reminded him of his former flame, Pearl Took. Just a memory it seemed. His heart was long since over her.

He head sank into the pillow. He was in pain for a different reason. He broke up with Pearl, and yet his heart wasn't wounded, which was strange to him. That meant he could love again. But what hobbitess, what woman would fall in love with him? Be his love interest? He'd be a burden to them, what with his wounds and all the pain he endured. He didn't want to be a burden. And yet, it seemed the conclusion was clear to him: he would have his friends, but he would always feel alone, without a wife and without children.

The One Ring tricked him. He wouldn't have a normal life. But then what was normal? He was just… there. And that's all he knew. That's all he would ever have to bear. And it hurt… badly. Now what could he do? Nothing, and that's how it would stand, even as he set sail to the Undying Lands. He was never meant to lead a normal life, or even a lover's life. Was he?

o-o-o

Well, I did my best to give this one-shot an ending, at least. I'm not doing good getting the endings right at the moment. I hope this ended well. Thanks for reading. :)


	20. Cordial

This drabble's mostly focused on the Chronicles of Narnia, due to Lucy's cordial. I realize now the prompt could also mean the chocolate covered cherries, so we'll see how it goes. :)

o-o-o

 **64.) Cordial**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **337**

Lucy Pevensie, with her long golden hair that flowed like a waterfall, stared in awe at the chocolates. They were just imported to Narnia, to Cair Paravel by an unusual group of travelers. They said they were cordial cherries, but she didn't believe them, and yet she was in the kitchen with its golden pots, pans and iron oven. So now, what could she do? She pondered over the healing cordial Father Christmas had given to her when she first entered Narnia. It all made sense… or it didn't make sense.

"Still deciding what to do?" Edmund Pevensie, with his blond hair and charming good looks, entered the kitchen, shaking his head.

"Ed, I know exactly what I am doing," Lucy returned her healing cordial back in its leather satchel. "But these," she showed off the glass bowl of chocolates, "were just imported here, to Narnia."

"Oh really," Edmund asked, sitting down next to her, while popping one of the chocolates in his mouth. "From where?"

"Middle-earth?" Lucy asked, smiling. She waved the thought away, "I'm joking. They're from Telmar."

"Telmar?" Edmund was surprised to hear this news.

"As a wedding gift," she said, unsure if the story was true.

"Whose wedding?" He asked further, pressing the matter.

"The beavers were celebrating, renewing their vows. It was their gift to us," Lucy said, honest.

Edmund raised an eyebrow, as he popped another cherry in his mouth. "Sure they did." He stood up. "Well, I'll see you later. Oh, and one more thing, you should try those cordial cherries. They're quite good." He zipped upstairs in the hopes of not getting caught.

Lucy returned her gaze to the cherries. They certainly looked good. "Maybe I'll have one." She popped it in her mouth. The chocolate's sweet flavor melted in her mouth. The cherry's tart taste was also there as she bit down. It was so good, she went for another cherry. "Telmar makes good chocolate. I'm surprised I hadn't tried any yet." She was certainly glad she did.


	21. Oops

This drabble is mainly focused on the events in the elevator scene between Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi and R2-D2 on General Grievous' ship, in the 2005 movie "Star Wars: Episode III – Revenge of the Sith". And Anakin doesn't say "oops" that often, but it's just a part of his character and who he is when he makes a mistake. Enjoy. :)

o-o-o

 **87.) Oops**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **260**

Anakin, a male human Jedi who was tall and also donned a brown mullet on his head, complete with an all black Jedi robe, had no idea he would run into trouble with the elevator. Was it R2's fault? No. He knew the blue and white astromech droid's wire jokes. Then again, having a trash compactor for a droid was insightful – oops, he meant this droid was his friend. Why would he claim him as a trash compactor?

A smile. Good form in an elevator, Anakin. He said to himself, right as the elevator stopped moving. That could be a problem. Another oops on his part. No. It had to be elevator – don't get him started about R2.

"There's more than one way out of here," Anakin said, brandishing his blue lightsaber and cutting a circle at the elevator's ceiling.

There. He did it. Move out of the way and he leapt onto the top of the elevator, much to his master's chagrin. Eh. It wasn't so bad. Oh no. Oops. Not again. Or wait… he had already leapt towards the doors, his grip on the ledge before it. And there were battle droids. Pieces of tinfoil. He would get to them later… the elevator was moving again. Oops. He would have to think fast. Leap from this wall. Leap from that wall. He was back inside the elevator.

Now to rescue the Chancellor. Chancellor Palpatine was his name. Here we go and here to face Count Dooku as well, and whatever fate had in store for our young Jedi.


	22. Crown

I was playing around with this idea. Automatically, the first thought that came up was Frodo with a crown or becoming a king. But then I thought about Aragorn and him taking the crown in Gondor. So, here's the end result. Enjoy. :)

o-o-o

 **2.) Crown**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **184**

There it was. A crown with silver wings bent into shape. It was an elegant crown for one so brave, so true, who pulled through till the bitter end. For that crown rested on the brow of one man, one Ranger, and he would use his power well for days to come.

For he was no longer Aragorn, but Elessar, King of the Reunited Kingdom of Gondor and Arnor. This was his vow and he would take his power and do good with it. For who knew how long peace would last throughout the kingdom of Middle-earth. The dwarves held their powers underground. The elves were leaving Middle-earth on silver ships. And the hobbits dwelt in peace in the Shire and Buckland.

And yet, it was the wizards would keep council and watch over the new king of Gondor. But would Aragorn – Elessar see Gandalf the White ever again?

"One day soon, Elessar," Gandalf nodded his approval, "one day soon." And then he was gone, without another word or prayer. It was clear, Elessar would not see Gandalf again until the day he died.


	23. Respect

For the moment, I'm working on these prompts in order. This may change, depending on the day, but I figured I might as well make progress on this challenge. So, here we go…

o-o-o

 **3.) Respect**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **248**

"But I want it!" Frodo Gamgee squirmed out of his father's arms. He wanted to dig into the earth, collect the pretty pink flower, and deliver it to his mother. If only fate hadn't dug himself up out of the ground by his own father, Samwise Gamgee. "I want it! I want it!"

"Frodo, you're turnin' six today. What do you have to say for yourself?" Sam asked, curtly. He brushed off the dirt from his son. "Look at the state you're in. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Elanor has dirt!" Frodo said, pointing his dirty index finger at his golden older sister.

"Do not!" Elanor complained, running off.

Sam shook his head. "I think it's time for a lesson on respect, young hobbits. Elanor, come back here! It's time to teach you some manners. The both of you, honest!"

"Father's angry," Frodo whispered to Elanor, loud for all to hear.

"Sit down. Let me teach you manners and respect," Sam said, patting the bench. His children sat down next to him. Good, they listened to him. "You see? This is respect. Listening to your parents and elders, treating your sister with respect, Frodo." He sighed. "So, what have we learned today?"

"Treat Elanor with respect," Frodo said, with a smile.

"Good enough. Now wash up," Sam said, helping Frodo inside. Yes, it was good to be the parent. But how long would this moment last? He did not know. For today, life was good.


	24. Loyalty

I decided for this particular prompt to write a poem. This one's on the Fellowship of the Ring – the Fellowship, I mean, not the book, movie and game.

o-o-o

 **4.) Loyalty**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **212**

Loyalty is tested in many ways,  
through many frays and streams.  
For the Fellowship of the Ring,  
their friendships are a story to tell.

For Gandalf and Aragorn,  
their friendship was tested best,  
when the hunt for Gollum came and went,  
to Aragorn crowned King Elessar of the Reunited Kingdom.

For Aragorn and Boromir,  
who started out very much as acquaintances.  
Boromir's loyalty to Aragorn would prove to great,  
when the Uruk-hai slew him with many arrows.

For Legolas and Gimli,  
their friendship came through time and time again.  
At the end of the quest, Gimli shaved his beard,  
and, in time, sailed away with his elven friend.

For Merry and Pippin,  
who started out young and spiteful,  
grew and matured alongside the Quest to Mordor,  
becoming a Knight of Gondor and an Esquire of Rohan.

For Frodo and Sam,  
their loyalty was tested to a fault.  
For in the end, as it is written,  
Sam sailed West, where he stayed with Frodo forevermore.

Five friendships that proven true in their own right,  
For even these friendships were great and true,  
Throughout Middle-earth. From knights, equires, soldiers and Ring-bearers,  
There is none greater, nor will there ever be. So, now I leave with a simple goodbye and an ever inspiring 'the end'.


	25. On A Side Note

Okay, this particular drabble is a Lord of the Rings and Supernatural crossover. I couldn't resist. Here we go again. :D This particular drabble's rated T for mild Winchester language.

o-o-o

 **5.) On A Side Note**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **431**

"Dean, what's Frodo Baggins doing, sleeping in the Impala?" Sam Winchester asked, beyond belief this was happening, while Dean Winchester, his brother, drove the black painted car.

"I don't know." Dean hissed in a low whisper. "We chase angels, demons, ghosts, wendigos. Didn't you check the back of the car to see if he's awake—"

Frodo stirred, rubbing his eyes. How long had he been asleep?

Dean was beside himself in frustration. "No shit. The hobbit's awake."

"What?" Frodo asked, stretching his arms in the air. He groaned loudly, inspecting the car in mild confusion – or a lot of confusion. "Where am I?"

"I was about to ask that question myself," Dean said, annoyed.

"Can we keep him?" Sam asked, curious.

"What?" Dean asked, alarmed.

"Well, he might be good for chasing off the supernatural beings." Sam explained his point of view on the matter. "Come on, Dean. There's a homeless hobbit here. We might as well give him our sympathies and…"

"What did you say?" asked… a creepy clown, sitting inches next to Sam.

"Ahh!" Frodo screamed. He hadn't expected this. "What's he doing here?"

"Excuse me," Dean pointed a gun to the clown's head, blasting it and spewing blood and guts in the air. Frodo lurched forward, puking out the contents in his stomach. Dean spoke, frustrated, "You're welcome. I just took care of a bleeding clown."

Sam spat, beyond disgusted. "You could have warned me, before you shot that clown!"

"I'm not feeling well," Frodo said, throwing up again.

"Great. Now I have to wash this car." Dean said, frustrated. The car continued to move, even as he added last, "At least I did us all a favor. You're welcome."

"Dean, how are we going to clean the car. There's blood everywhere," Sam asked, peeling off one of the guts off his shoulder.

"Just be grateful nothing bad will happen again," Dean spoke in turn.

"You can say that again," Frodo announced, doing his best to keep his stomach together. The smell of blood was everywhere in the car. Good thing he zoomed out of there when he had the chance, right into a waterfall. He was grateful for this, wondering where his next adventure might be lurking around the next bend. He said his goodbyes to the Winchester brothers a moment before he rushed into the flowing fresh water.

Yup, it was going to be another bright and sunny day. Now where was his next meal going to be? He didn't know. For now, life was good… while the day lasted in a bright, beautiful way.


	26. Failure

While I'm in the mood, I'm going to do a drabble series with the prompts for this challenge. The focus is on a crossover between _The Lord of the Rings_ and "The Shannara Chronicles" television adaptation of _The Elfstones of Shannara_ book. This drabble series portion of the challenge will be based around "The Shannara Chronicles" instead of book. I have yet to re-read the book, so that's why I'm sticking to the television show.

o-o-o

 **6.) Failure**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **1,105**

Frodo Baggins looked out the parlor window. The pale moonlight bounced into the room, it's light ever growing and ever lingering. This was how he would remember the moon, whilst living in the Shire, for his first official night owning Bag End, after the grey robed wizard Gandalf the Grey left the Shire, and his uncle, Bilbo Baggins, before him.

There was no questioning it. Frodo was alone and the Master of Bag End. Now what could he do? Well, he could go to bed and listen to the silence that endured throughout the place. Not that he knew what to do. He was just figuring out the outcomes, let alone deciding on one to do. His thick, curly, brown hair blew gently in the wind, coming from the kitchen window. He would have to remember to close the doors… maybe that would help it. But then there was also the open window in the parlor. That explained matters. Of course, he would need to close the window. Only, he was halfway through to closing it when he failed… he was a failure… no. The strange wind was to blame for pulling him through the window, causing him to tumble and fall for several kilometers.

He landed with a hard thud on his back. He groaned, moaning a little from the searing pain that lurched its way onto his spine. That wasn't supposed to happen. And the window… it was all the way up there, on the top of the hill. What could he do now? He was trapped. He could climb the hill… and he did climb it, only to slip and fall again, landing back-first against a wall. This was it. This was twice that his back was struck by something. And there were voices, rushed masculine voices, speaking from just inside the hut.

"Stay in Shady Vale, Wil," said an older voice, prodding about the house.

"No. I'm going to Storlock." The younger voice, Wil's voice – Frodo assumed it was who the voice belonged to – announced in his own deafening way. "I need to become a healer. It's my dream to help people."

"Listen Wil, you just lost your mother," the older voice told him. "You're irrational."

"Uncle Flick, I know what I'm doing," Wil told him, firm and nearly choking back his words.

Frodo collapsed on the ground. Just where was he? Where was this Shady Vale? Was he a part of this world, or did something come up that he wasn't aware of? All he knew was he needed to find shelter and a place to rest. But how many places were there to rest? And who knew what horrors lurked beyond this valley. It was hopeless. It was… the door opened. He scrambled to his feet, only his hairy feet were covered in sweat and dirt. There before him was a young man with short pointy ears, with mullet blonde hair and wearing blue clothes.

"Hello," Wil said, surprised to see him. "Who are you? What are you doing outside at this hour?"

"I'm Frodo Baggins." Frodo admitted a second later, "I don't know how I got here. I'm a hobbit."

"You're a what?" Wil was confused.

"A hobbit. A halfling." Frodo answered, curtly. "Where I come from, hobbits are shorter than dwarves."

"Really?" Wil said, amazed at this new information. "I'm a Halfling, too. Half-elf, half-human. I have short tipped ears."

"We're different, but surprisingly similar in some ways," Frodo said, understanding.

"Well, come in." Wil said, gesturing indoors.

"Thank you, but who are you?" Frodo asked, confused.

"Wil Ohmsford," Wil said in introduction. He called out, "Uncle Flick, we have a guest."

"Not now, Wil… who is this?" Flick asked, confusion rippling across his face.

"I'm Frodo Baggins," Frodo announced himself, curtly.

"Oh. Another guest to wish Wil's mother goodbye," Flick said, beyond reason. "Tell me, that is why you are here."

"Actually, I don't know who that is," Frodo admitted, truthfully. "I came here through the parlor window in my house."

"Parlor window? How do you do that?" Flick asked, concerned.

"That's beside the point." Wil said, stretching his arms out between them. "So, whose hungry?"

"Wil, guests don't appear like that out of the blue." Flick turned to Frodo with sincere apologizes, "Sorry Frodo. A lot has been going on. But you're welcome to stay here, gather your bearings, and maybe, just maybe, we can find our way to get you back to where you came from. You mustn't think about staying for too long now. Only a day."

"Yes, but… couldn't I stay? Explore the sights. See what dangers there are in this world," Frodo said, admitting freely.

"There's far more dangers here than you realize. Dwarves, Rovers, Trolls and Gnomes. And don't get me started on Elves," Flick told him, serious.

"Uncle Flick, there's no need to scare him," Wil said, defending his new guest.

"What do you mean?" Frodo asked Flick, ignoring Wil for a second. "What's wrong with the races here?"

"They hate each other," Flick answered, serious. "Look, do yourself a favor. Tomorrow, leave Shady Vale. Go back to where you came from. It'll be better if you did this, before someone gets hurt or has to save your skin."

"Flick, I'm sure Frodo is fine," Wil said, beyond belief.

"Wil, Flick, I think I can take care of myself," Frodo said, stopping their argument.

"Well, let's hope so," Flick said, leaving the room.

Wil spun around and faced the hobbit. "You can come with me to Storlock tomorrow, if you want. Or you can leave."

"I wasn't planning on staying for very long…" Frodo gazed out the open window. What choice could he choose? "Then again, I'm not ready to head home just yet. Thank you for your hospitality. I could use a good night's rest."

"Then I'll find accommodation for you," Wil said in a near hushed voice.

"Thank you," Frodo said, following Wil as he searched for bedding and some food.

…

Frodo settled down on a bed of hay and brown, thick sheets. It wasn't much, but it was at least good accommodations. He wanted to thank Flick and Wil for their hospitality, but even he knew some things were too good to be true. He was going home after all. His adventure cut short, before it could begin.

Now what was he to do? He had no idea at the moment. But for now, he was glad to have shelter against the bitter cold night. It was all he could ask for, for the time being. So far, everything was good… for now at least.


	27. Closure

Here is Part 2 in my drabble set for this challenge.

o-o-o

 **7.) Closure**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **742**

 _Frodo wandered through a forest with brown bark on the trees and pine needles dressed throughout the dirt ground. He hadn't been inside this forest before… why then did it remind him of the forests in Middle-earth? For some reason, that's what he thought when he came here. Time seemed to have no end in this place._

 _And there, standing before him were elven statues and buildings made from stone. He was so close to the building now. Its doors were so tall and so wooden, and yet it brought peace to him for some reason. He waited for the guards to open the doors, but they didn't._

" _Please, let me through," Frodo pleaded. "Please."_

" _Time has moved forward, hasn't it Frodo?" said a man with short black hair and dressed in purple robes. "You aren't just inside a dream anymore. Your very presence has shifted time itself."_

" _Who are you?" Frodo asked the man._

" _I am Allanon and if you are not careful, you will be in danger," Allanon told him._

" _What do you mean?" Frodo asked him, concerned._

" _Beyond those doors is a tree that needs to stand tall and stand firm," Allanon said, calmly. "If you pass through that door, that demon army could very well return and fight again. Do what you can to leave this world. Go home. Go back to the Shire, now, while you still can. These warnings aren't for the faint hearted. Your life is in danger, now as we speak." He repeated one last time. "Go home, Frodo. Wake up…"_

Frodo's eyes shot open. His arm was outstretched, his head laying on top of it. But that wasn't just that. It was the fact that he was lying on soft green grass with no blanket and no bed. Just where was he now? It was clear he was inside a forest… and there was the sanctuary with the brazens alight and a few elves guarding the place. Maybe it was safe. Maybe he should find out…

A staff blocked his path. He turned and looked, only to meet Allanon's gaze.

"That's far enough," Allanon spoke directly. "Your presence here shifted everything, but the quest was fulfilled. We don't need your help, Frodo."

"I'm sure I didn't come for no reason," Frodo said, serious. "Tell me, what was the point in coming here, if I don't fit in."

"You must be careful. Use caution. If you leave, if you travel to another world, without finishing your quest here, you'll place my home world and your own in grave danger," Allanon told him.

Frodo was confused. Hadn't he just been in Shady Vale? And now… there was Wil, coming out to greet Allanon. He nearly spoke to him, but something was off. There were silvery ripples surrounding Allanon, Will and the landscape around him. He tried calling out to them, but he couldn't. It was as if he couldn't be heard. He sighed. Maybe this was the end of his journey. The closure coming up at last. Surely, there must have been somewhere else, but… a hand grabbed his shoulder.

It was Allanon's hand. "Come with me, boy."

"I came of age not too long ago," Frodo said, confused.

"Your path is this way. Good luck to you," Allanon said, gesturing to the road ahead, an aisle in between the two silvery rippled walls.

"Is it safe?" Frodo asked him, concerned.

"That depends on you. Don't let no evil enter this passage. Your life depends on it," Allanon told him, firmly.

"Wait. Don't I get to say goodbye—" He pointed to Wil, who was still in conversation with something… or someone he couldn't see.

"Good luck to you, Frodo," Allanon said, calmly. "I'm afraid you can't help Wil now. You're caught in your own timeline. And you need to return home. But first, let the path guide you through what you need to do. The rest comes from you." He patted Frodo's shoulder. "Now go. You're needed elsewhere."

"Thank you, I hope," Frodo said, wandering down the path on foot. He hoped nothing evil would come his way. But then, who knew on the lonely road back home. He just hoped that no one in the Shire ever realized he had left through the parlor window. If they did… well, he knew Sam would start searching for him. Well, here was hoping he wasn't too late to prevent a disaster from coming to pass.


	28. That's Not What I Meant

Part 3 in the set for this drabble challenge. This is where Kingdom Hearts comes in, in a sense.

o-o-o

 **9.) That's Not What I Meant**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **762**

Frodo did not know how far he wandered away from the sanctuary. The forest was so wide and he was moving farther away, right through the forest. The sticks and pine needles stung his feet and ankles, scraping against the skin until it turned reddish color. At least, he wasn't bleeding as of yet, but you could never tell in this place.

For now, he was content with figuring out what sort of quest he had to take part in. No. There was the end of the road, right in front of a panel made from stone. There was a black box showing constellations in a holographic way… wait. Holograms? How did he know that? This world didn't have this sort of technology.

Then again, neither did his world. Just what was he supposed to do here. There weren't any more paths. Just a dead end. This was the dead end. Okay. How was he to work this? There was a click. He pressed the first blinking button. Now there were two buttons. Should he press them both? Why not this button? A voice spoke in the air, as if it was always meant to be there.

 _Sorry. Wrong button. Try again._

"That's not what I meant," Frodo said, pressing the other button.

 _Try again. . ._

"Oh, why not both?" Frodo said, pressing both buttons at the same time.

 _Well done. You may proceed._

"Thank you," the gentle-hobbit said, watching as the path on his left was open to him… now the path on the right was also open, along with a middle path. Great. Now there were three paths. Which path should he take? That was a good question.

His feet crunched against the pebbles and soil. He could feel the middle path calling out to him, invisible hands stretching forth dragging him through… something strange happened… he was zooming forward, moving as if there was blocks of ice in front of him… he didn't know what to do… should he stay? Should he move? Either way, his limbs caught up with him, as did the rest of his body. He was pulled out of the quick motions, straight into a door with so many jewels. This was his next step. He just needed to open the door…

He stumbled back a few paces. The silver ripples were still present, but they climbed higher and higher into the sky. He was alone and standing on top of a stained-glass window, with a girl with black hair, fair features and with red lips. Her dress was yellow with poufy sleeves. But it was also here that he watched the door vanish.

No. It was his only way home! How was he supposed to go anywhere? And how… there were spark sounds slashing through the air. In his hand was a large keyblade. It was easy to handle, light too, and yet it wasn't. How was he supposed to use this? And what were those shadow creatures. He had to face them… he had to… he slashed with the keyblade… one of the shadows collapsed, vanishing from sight.

He stood there, stunned. What had he done?

"No!" Frodo cried, bewilderment in his eyes. He didn't want this. He couldn't want this. He wasn't meant to kill anyone. He couldn't do it. He threw the keyblade away, enraged.

No! The shadow creatures engulfed him. He was sailing into the darkness… all his emotions were leaving him. He felt so alone. So cold. He was like a shell of his former self. He couldn't do it. He couldn't escape the darkness. It was becoming a friend to him. A lonely friend. Oh, how could he escape this fate? How… he did not know…

The darkness was welcoming… he closed his eyes, sleep overtaking him completely… he was alone… and forgotten… and there was a voice calling out to him…

"Mr. Frodo! Wake up!" It was Sam's voice. Samwise Gamgee, calling out to him. Yes, he could feel his body more.

Frodo opened his eyes. He was on the windowsill in Bag End. Dusk had arrived. Why then did he hardly feel emotional? Surely there was a reason, but for that he did not know. Only knowing the feeling of emptiness was bad enough. What exactly happened to him while he was gone… if he had been gone at all. Oh, what could he do now? Just what did happen that he did not know. He had a feeling he was about to find out just what was going on in the Shire once again.

o-o-o

I realize there isn't enough emotions going on in this drabble, particularly with one small section towards the end there. I don't know what happened, but this is definitely something I need to work on. Thanks for reading. :) The fourth and last part of this set, not the challenge, is coming up in the next drabble…


	29. Jewel

Here is the last part in the set, not the challenge. I may go back to not going in order after this mini story of the challenge is complete. We'll see how it goes…

o-o-o

 **12.) Jewel**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **354**

"Mr. Frodo," Sam's voice spoke up, concerned.

For a moment, Frodo thought he had been dreaming. Surely he was missing something… he jumped in shock the moment a hand gripped his shoulder. He swung around, meeting Sam's gaze. Sam, his brown-haired gardener who always looked after him… at least, that's how it looked.

"Sam, I thought I was asleep… or awake this whole time," Frodo said, beside himself. "What happened?"

"Well, you were falling towards the edge of the windowsill. I came here and managed to pull you back, but you went on asleep and not needin' my help," Sam spoke in turn. "I thought I would come here to see if you're all righ'?"

"But Allanon, Wil, that panel and that darkness…" Frodo pondered on the thoughts. Had he only been asleep. The places were so real. "Where did I go? I hear your voice."

"Mr. Frodo, you were asleep. Also, I found this on the table," Sam said, showing off a green jewel. "I trust it belongs to you." He set the jewel down on the table.

Frodo stood up, only to wince in pain. Had his back really suffered while he was asleep? And his legs were in pain, too. He had to move… and he landed square on the edge of the table, right in front of the green gem. He knew now what it was called.

"Sam, that's an elfstone," Frodo said, concern written on his face. "Sam, what's an elfstone doing here?"

"I hardly know." Sam said, tapping his back. "It seems its yours now."

Frodo waited until his best friend was away, before he picked up the elfstone. As if by magic, Allanon's voice appeared in the wind, beckoning him to listen.

" _It is your destiny to guard the stone. That elfstone will guide you through your quests and all the quests to come. Keep it with you. Keep it safe."_

"I will, Allanon." Frodo clasped his hand over the stone, repeating the words in a low whisper, as he already had done before. "I will."

 **The End.**

 _End of the Four-Part Set in this Drabble Challenge…_


	30. Practice

Okay, so this one has a bit of Lord of the Rings and a bit of Star Wars and maybe a bit of Harry Potter. Here we go. :)

o-o-o

 **70.) Practice**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **651**

The training chamber in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant had low ceilings, a few stone benches here and there, along with a platform set up specifically for training. But this wasn't the only thing that was going on… well, maybe training was what counted. Especially given that a thick, curly, brown haired hobbit with blue eyes – named Frodo Baggins – and a black haired teenage boy – named Harry Potter – were facing each other with lightsabers, thanks to the brown-haired Jedi Anakin Skywalker… maybe we said too much.

Well, it was a busy practice day.

"Thank you, Narrator," Anakin said with a brief, warm smile. Now he was confused. "Where is that mysterious voice coming from?"

"I wouldn't worry about it, Anakin," Frodo said, between spars. "The Narrator's been doing that to me, too."

"Hmm," Anakin said, unimpressed. He smacked his forehead. "Come on, you guys! The whole point of this training was to get you revved up for some real action."

"When can I use my wand?" Harry asked, determined to end the conflict. "A wand would be so much easier than this… weapon." He threw the lightsaber across the floor.

"A Jedi relies on the Force, and their skills with an elegant weapon." Anakin picked up the lightsaber, tossing it back to the wizard. "Try again."

"Be a lot easier than blasting something everywhere you go," Frodo said, startled by Anakin's burst of laughter.

"Hey! A wand is known to get things done," Harry protested. "Come on. What about your sword? You hack things. Don't you."

"You mean a vibrosword. Also effective, especially against lightsabers," Anakin spoke out of turn.

"Well, the sword I have, Sting, is very useful against spiders," Frodo said, pulling out his sword, which sang elegantly against the leather sheath. "Here. I can show you."

"You know what? All this fighting is ridiculous," Anakin said, raising his hands in the air.

"Yeah. We should test our weapons. Now let me get out my wand…" Harry said, pulling out his polished stick, much to Frodo's burst of laughter this time. "What? You have a sword," he pointed to Anakin, "and you have a lightsaber. I prefer a wand. Very useful."

"Hey, what's going on here?" Merry Brandybuck, Frodo's friend and brown-haired hobbit, entered the training area.

"Nothing. We're discussing weapons. Finding out which is more convenient. More elegant," Anakin explained, crossing his arms in disdain.

"Well, I'm surprised you didn't talk about love. Now, let me tell you my story on how Estella met me." Merry said, using his hands to emphasis the moment. "It was a clear, sunny day and Estella was the most beautiful hobbit ever. Plus, she had a decent spider or two to keep her busy. Still, that pet spider was all the fiercer… and then it died two weeks later when the cat was looking for it."

"Well, on that note, I'll leave you to it," Anakin said, turning off the blade. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah, me too. All this talk of spiders reminded me of the Forbidden Forest," Harry said, tossing the lightsaber to Frodo.

"I can take care of them," Anakin said, taking the two lightsabers, before leaving the training chamber.

Frodo turned to Merry, telling him, "Did you really have to tell that story again?"

"Well, it did end the debate," Merry said with a chipper smile. Frodo shook his head, but couldn't resist smiling himself. It was good to have a cousin standing firm and helping him out of crucial debates, such as the one he just had with Anakin and Harry. "Now, I'm heading to the mess hall. Want to come?"

"Merry, I couldn't agree with you more," Frodo said, sighing. Nope, he wasn't getting rid of Merry anytime soon. "Let's go." He sheathed his sword, before following his cousin out of the training chamber. Next stop: the mess hall, where their friends awaited them for lunch.


	31. Waiver

With this particular prompt, I was inspired by the movie "Sherlock Holmes". It involves Frodo and Pearl, again. Here we go…

o-o-o

 **86.) Waiver**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **424**

Frodo's head lulled in the rocking chair. Nestled in his hand was a bottle of wine, sagging closer to the floor and closer to spilling its contents all over the floor. It hadn't been too long ago since he had a few drinks, but neither was it… his lips were moving, pressed against another's. The lips were feminine, warm and soft to the touch. She certainly had class, this miss… he stirred, right as the hobbit lass released.

No. It was Pearl.

The wine bottle dropped, smashing to the floor with glass all over the place.

"Frodo, you've been drinking again," Pearl said, admonished. "In your bedroom, I see. Oh, let me help you clean up."

Frodo briefly rubbed his eyes. "What time is it? Why are you here?"

"It's funny you should ask that," Pearl said, in the middle of cleaning up. "I was about to ask you the same thing, but you've been sleeping in here since dawn."

"Pearl, why are you here in my house?" he pressed, hoping she would go away.

Pearl faced him, eagerness in her eyes. "Frodo, why wouldn't I stay?"

"You haven't answered my question," Frodo said, sleepily. To his surprise, he was greeted by another of Pearl's kisses. Honestly, she was invading his privacy, even after she released him.

"Oh, don't be bashful. We both know my reasons for being here. It's…"

"Pearl! Pearl!" Pippin called, entering the bedroom. "Oh. Maybe I should leave."

"No. It's fine. I was leaving anyway," Pearl said, standing up and handing to Frodo a broom and a dustpan. "Oh, surely you can clean up after yourself." She walked out of the bedroom, right as Pippin grabbed a few washcloths and helped Frodo clean up the mess.

"Pippin, what was she doing here?" Frodo asked his cousin.

"A better question: why did you let her get you drunk?" Pippin asked, curious.

"I thought it was the other way around," Frodo said, still exhausted.

"Maybe you should get some sleep," Pippin said, leading his cousin over to his bed. "I'll clean up the mess you made."

"Thank you, Pippin. Thank you," Frodo said, yawning. He didn't bother changing into his night clothes. In seconds, even after his head hit the pillow and his body resting underneath the covers, he at last found the sleep he so desired. Now to remember to take a bath and change into a fresh set of clothes. Oh boy. This was just what he needed. Then again, Pearl's entrance was rather amusing, wasn't it? What a waiver…


	32. Air

This prompt is inspired by the news and by Saturday Night Live, where the inspiration for this prompt came from. Make sense? Well, let's go…

o-o-o

 **91.) Air**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **370**

The lights turned on. The camera was ready. Frodo rolled on over to the desk, where sheets of paper sat. But that wasn't his focus? No! Not at all. A wide smile spread out across his face. His hands shook, the perspiration leaving him. He was ready.

"Good evening and welcome to the Hobbit News," Frodo said, clasping his hands together awful loudly. "Today, we have some very sad news to bring you today. Lotho Sackville-Baggins has overrun the Shire. Our news anchor and studded hobbit, Merry Brandybuck is here to give us the latest on what is happening in the Shire." He turned to a screen, revealing Merry in the ruins of the Shire. "Merry, tell us what is going on with this devastation."

"Well Frodo," Merry started to explain, "the Shire is in an awful, awful devastation. If I may recall, some loose hedgehogs walked across my feet. Ouch, ouch!" He sobbed. "My feet are built for hedgehog madness!"

"Merry, calm down. Those aren't porcupines that are stepping on your feet. Maybe try some hedgehog gel to soften them up."

"But Frodo—" The screen turned black, cutting Merry off.

Frodo grinned at the camera. "Yes. Well, that is devastating. And now we turn to our chef, Pippin Took. Pippin, what are you cooking for us today?"

"Oink, oink, oink!" a pig scurried across the camera. Pippin ran like mad trying to catch it.

"All in good time, Frodo. What about that Scouring in the Shire?" Pippin asked, confused.

"Yes, well, that happened weeks ago and Lotho just died." Frodo's eyes widened. "What? How did that happen?" He shook himself off. He would get through with it later. "Well, Sam is looking at the wreckage and… whoa!" He was stunned to see the Shire on the screen in full bloom, lush with greenery. "What happened?"

"Mr. Frodo, I think the Shire has been saved," Sam piped up on the screen.

Frodo shook his head. "Well, maybe someone would have told me sooner." He looked at the camera, telling it. "Well, while we sort out this mess. That's it for the Hobbit News. Until next time."

"And we're off the air," the director said as the camera beeped off.


	33. Oddities

Sorry for the delay, again. I was working on stories and figuring out what to write next for this fanfic. I'm going in order again with the prompts. This particular drabble is based off the dream I had this morning. Enjoy. :)

o-o-o

 **13.) Oddities**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **327**

The room was tinted a greyish-blue hue. The walls were metal and surrounded Frodo in a box. He had no idea where he was, but here he was with a bunch of random items, random oddities that he kept to himself. He sorted through them. There was a pink yo-yo, fresh and new, as well as ready to use. A paddle – well, he had no use for that. And a score of swords and knives, decked up inside a backpack. They were sheathed. Good for them.

There was also a photograph in sepia, showing him with Pearl. There was also a child. A boy. His child. A tear threatened to leave his eyelid. He brushed the tear out of his eye. He couldn't be seen crying, but then… there was a huge ape like creature with brown fur. He appeared to be ancient, and his eyes grey to white. The items were forgotten. Now all that remained was the task ahead, wherever it would take the gentle-hobbit. At least, he knew where he was going or what he was getting himself into.

Oh well. He might as well meet the ape first. Yes. That was clear now, for the ape-like mammal introduced himself as the Bendu, a creature in neutral status with the Force. And his task rested on Frodo surviving the water that flowed near him. Frodo knew he would survive. It was a dream. Or was it? Either way, a massive rippled light bubble surrounded him. He was safe. Now for the next task, once the water drained from the room: find the people below this space and see what task lay ahead for him. He had no idea, no clue, until he woke up that he was heading towards the next destination.

Where that lay… who knew. For now, that was all he was left with… until he dreamt again… and it wasn't even anywhere near where he had been before. Perfect. Just great.

o-o-o

The Bendu came from "Star Wars: Rebels".


	34. Key

Okay, so this drabble has a Kingdom Hearts feel to it.

o-o-o

 **20.) Key**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **454**

Frodo was twelve at the time he saw it. What did he see? That is what we are about to witness: it was early morning and the sun peaked out over the horizon, from behind the dark grey cloudbank. Frodo waited until his parents were distracted, before clambering outside. He just wanted to look.

Lo and behold! On the green grass was a brass key. He pulled it out from the wet dirt, curious about its features. Where this key fit, he did not know. But… wait. There was a wooden chest with a gold lock sitting close to the river. He picked it up and fitted the key into the lock. It fit! The key turned and click! He moved the lock out of the way and opened the chest's lid. Inside was a treat: a music box, playing a tune that was so beautiful, but also sad. It made him sad.

He squealed the second his mother pulled him into a tight hug. "What have you got there, Frodo?" She kissed the head, the curly brown locks gently draping his skull.

"Mother, I found this," he faced her, his blue eyes longing. "Maybe someone is looking for it."

"Hmm… well, you'd better find the owner. Unless you found it and it belongs to you," his mother told him.

"Wait," he said, reading the lid's gold letters. "'To Whoever Finds This Chest, May Joy and Hope Fill Your Soul and Your Heart with a Chest Filled with Treasure and Gold'. Huh."

"What is it, Frodo?" his mother asked, tilting her head to the side in confusion.

"Nothing. I guess this chest is mine," Frodo said, somber.

His mother ruffled up his hair. "Well, come in for breakfast. There's plenty on the table."

"I will, Mum," Frodo said, waving to her as she walked away from him, back to the house. He stared at the chest in awe. "This chest is mine now. But who—" His gaze met that of a boy with bright red and white on, waving to him. The boy called out to him, telling him the chest was his. Frodo smiled. Well, some good did come from this after all. "The chest is mine. Oh boy. What am I to do with it?" He thought on and on about that decision, even as the chest's music box continued playing its sweet and somber tone. It was a good day and he felt blessed. Maybe there was hope after all. He just needed to see it to understand it. Yes, that was it. That was it. He closed the box, rushing home without a minute's delay. It was good to be a hobbit and he knew that much was certain.


	35. Stage

This one I helped LadyLindariel with coming up with the prompt. It took me a while to figure out what drabble to write alongside it. So, here is the end result. :)

o-o-o

 **17.) Stage**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **232**

Merry had this. He could do it. All he needed was the proper motivation. Yes, he could do it. The stage was set and the red curtain raised. It was time to perform in front of the crowd of hobbits, for all to hear. Here tell was his poem to his dearest friend, Estella:

"How do I set the stage at Methel-stage,  
Enduring to my one true love?

"How do I go about this, one way or another,  
And not condone my love's beauty and grace?

"How do I set the stage, my darling Estella,  
For if not, my hand is slightly abashed?

"Lo, do my travels lead me across Middle-earth,  
And for that, I bid you all adieu."

"That didn't even rhyme!" one hobbit heckler stated, ever so brashly. "This hobbit cannot sing, he cannot act. What sort of hobbit are you?"

"I am a Brandybuck and you, sir, will hear my second verse!" Merry said, slapping his parchment paper against his hand. "My darling Estella, how you caress my gentle soul and heart. How I long to seek your shelter, amidst my tender soul? I love thee, Estella, I love you till the end. For when death draws its shoulder, I'll come to you again. If…"

"Oh, great," the heckler said, clasping his hands to his face in agony.

And that is how Merry Brandybuck bested the heckler.

The End.


	36. Preferences

This drabble was inspired by the YouTube web series "The First Musketeer".

o-o-o

 **15.) Preferences**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **294**

Pippin Took, in all merits, assumed he did not have to go to market with his sisters. Oh, how he longed to be out in the mud and dirt with his friends. But no, today he was going to market with his sisters. Not what he had in mind. But then, it was Tookland's best market. Well, he needed a new brooch for his cloak. So, he had an excuse to be in market.

But his preferences? Well, he wasn't sure which brooch he wanted. And yet, here he was in market with all its colors and hobbits. There was so much material and greens. How could he choose just one? Ah! There was the brooch booth. Oh, what could he choose… what could he choose… oh, did he really have to select one.

Oh good! There was a button brooch with gold vigor wrapped around it. Roses decked this brooch with the shape of a castle in the center. Now he longed to be out on adventures with his friends. Yes, he was ready and paid for the brooch in silver pennies. He fitted the brooch to his cloak in due time. It fit! Excellent. Now where to…

"Pippin, come on!" Pearl said, waving him over. Pippin reached her without delay.

"Sister," Pippin said in agreement, smiling mischievously.

"You paid for this brooch, right?" Pearl asked, suspiciously. Her fingers laced over the brooch with one touch. "You did, didn't you?"

"Yes Pearl. I picked it all on my own," Pippin said with a warm smile.

"Good. Shall we go now?" Pearl asked, leading the way back to the Great Smials.

Pippin sighed. Just another beautiful day in the Shire. Yes, indeed it was a good day, one he would not forget anytime soon.


	37. Desert

Like the first 100 drabble challenge I worked on, I'm once again working on the 100th prompt early on. Maybe not too early, but I figured I might as well work on it now.

o-o-o

 **100.) Desert**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **343**

Frodo awoke with chapped lips. He needed water. So much water. He was thirsty and longed for a drink. All around him was sand and a scorching sun. He gasped in desperation. He was in a desert, but how much of a deserter did he become? He was asleep, but the Ring clung to his chest, burning through it with a sensation he had never felt before.

Could he do it? Could he move? He no longer wanted to be a deserter. The quest was more important than this. He stumbled to his knees. They were so weak, as if he would fall any second. And yet the courage was there. It stood firm inside his waking, beating heart. He could do this. He looked behind him, checking to make sure he wasn't followed.

But he was being followed. Orcs spotted him, brazen in their iron, spiky armor. They were chasing him. He trusted his legs to carry him… all the way to an oasis and into a jungle. The sun still beat firmly upon his chest, beating right into the One Ring itself.

"Ah!" he sang in agony. It was a light cry, but enough for him to grasp that he needed water so badly. He stopped. There it was. Crystal, clear water, gentle to his touch. He dipped his hands into the water, cupping them and sipping it. He felt better now. He… he woke up to a hot, barren landscape that was dark and filled with lava. The weight of the Ring was off of him for good. He felt so light, so close to death. He gazed up at the sky. Large talons wrapped around him, carrying him away from the darkness and the lava.

He sighed deeply, his eyes closing firmly. He was safe. That was all that mattered, all that he cared for. And he was glad of it. He was coming home at long last, back to where it all began before the Quest took hold of him and changed the course of his life forever.


	38. Sick

Well, I'm back at it again with Dark Lord Frodo. This time, he's getting a wardrobe change. :)

o-o-o

 **99.) Sick**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **305**

Frodo sat on his iron throne, weighing his solid oak lute. From his malice, there bore scars and a sickness that could not be ignored. Yes, he was sick, but from his black leather vest, black leather jacket, black dress shirt and black knee breeches, he could not go wrong. His thick, brown, curly hair wasn't tied back this time. It just sat there, oily as ever from not being washed for ten days. Not that he needed to when being evil. He was the newest dark lord.

He smiled a crooked smile. Wickedness never felt so good. He could yell at his soldiers. He could do whatever he liked. And that was how he liked it.

"Master," an orc soldier said, bowing before him.

Frodo sneered. "What is it?"

"You have a guest. We need to discuss our plans," the orc said in a snarling voice.

The dark hobbit glared at him. He yelled, promptly, " _What did I say about leaving the entrances to me?!_ " He grabbed the orc's ear, clutching it tightly. He glowered in a muttering voice, "I thought I said no guests tonight. I am busy and you know better." He released his ear, hurtling the orc down the stone steps. "Now, get back to work, before I send the royal guard. And we both know what will happen to you, sir."

"Yes, my dark nemesis. Right away," the orc paraded out of the dark stone throne room, shrieking out in pain.

Frodo slumped back down on his throne, playing once more a tune on his lute. He sighed in anguish, but also relief. It was good to be the Dark Lord yet again. And he would ravish in it until his last breath, which he hoped would not come too soon or too late. If it ever occurred at all.


	39. Actions speak louder than words

Yes, I am a fan, but lately I've noticed a major flaw with die-hard fans. My woe with this flaw started with the Star Wars Prequel Trilogy. The second time I caught this flaw came with the Hobbit Trilogy. *exhales* Well anyway, take a look… sorry if this gets a little OOC. I was trying to keep Frodo in character.

o-o-o

 **62.) Actions speak louder than words**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **524**

"I love 'The Lord of the Rings' trilogy," said one die-hard fan one day, while working on her computer. "I love it so much – oh Sam, I feel so sorry for you. You deserve every ounce of gratitude for the quest." She grimaced at the thought, "What did Frodo do? Nothing. Sam did all the work, and what did Frodo do? Just carry the One Ring to Mordor. Sam is my man – eh, hobbit. He… aaaaahhhh!" She turned around, her auburn-brown hair whisking away with the wind. There they were: Frodo and Sam in her dorm room. She still needed to clean the place up. "Who are you?" was the first thing she asked.

"Who am I?" Frodo and Sam said in unison.

"Who are you insulting me?" Frodo asked the die-hard fan.

"Um…" the die-hard fan came up with an excuse. "I think you're brilliant."

Frodo shook his head. "That's not what I heard."

"It's all right, Mr. Frodo," Sam said, calmly.

"How so, Sam?" Frodo said, tensely.

"Well, for one thing – my fans are always like this, most of them. They say I do all of the work, while you did nothin' on the quest," Sam explained, still calm. "So Mr. Frodo, what was your task. I know you had a heavier burden than me. I know how it feels carryin' that Ring to Mordor, for a brief time."

"Exhausting," Frodo explained as well. "The Ring tore through my spirit, my mind and my body. It's much heavier burden to carry than one would presume. I lasted all the way to the Crack of Doom in Mount Doom, before the Ring broke me and Gollum took the Ring from my hands. So, I did my part well."

"But you didn't do anything on the quest," our die-hard fan proclaimed.

Frodo grinned. "Would you have carried the Ring to Mordor?"

"It's lightweight," the die-hard fan said, not understanding.

"It's a burden!" Frodo seethed, trying to stay calm. "We all had our part to play in the quest. Sure, Sam helped me out multiple times and I have needed him…"

"Yes!" the die-hard fan clamped her fist together in victory.

"I'm not finished," he said, serious. "The fact of the matter is I carried a huge weight, one I don't think you understand. But then, it depends on the fan and what they love. We can't please everyone and we're not trying to please everyone. The fact of the matter is you need to have an open mind. That's where the true fan comes in most. That's what I learned." He turned to Sam. "And we ought to get going. See you later, Lyndsey."

"Bye," Lyndsey watched Frodo and Sam disappear on sight. She stared at the wardrobe for a couple of seconds. Had she missed something? "Have I missed something?" She sighed. "Oh well. Back to work." She returned her gaze to her laptop. There was a fanfic she needed to start and she couldn't wait to do it, just like she wanted…

And so, our tale has reached its end. For now, I have two words to say, which are: the end.


	40. Memories

**18.) Memories**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **100**

Legolas sat on a wooden bench, made from tree roots, in the Woodland Realm, gazing out into the distance. The memories he had of his mother were few. Even today, he wished he could remember more about her… but then, he did remember some things. His mother's fair singing, the way she moved when she danced. Even the times when she caressed him and put him to bed. He was so little then. But now, as he looked on at his parents, he knew one thing was clear: he was home and with his family, safe and sound, at last.


	41. Change

Okay, so I just read through the very infamous _My Immortal_ fanfic and my head hurts from it. So, now I'm going to do the right thing and help Draco Malfoy out with this drabble. Hopefully, this works. *fingers crossed*

o-o-o

 **59.) Change**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **408**

The sun's first rays shone through the cloud bank. Draco Malfoy, a blond-haired young man with a cool head these days, opened his eyes. The mattress had been so soft as his pillow… he was alone at Hog's Head. How long had he been asleep? He remembered coming to Hogsmeade village on a business trip to Hogwarts – it was the truth, since his father Lucius Malfoy practically dragged him out of the manor to run some errands for him… so, not much of a business trip after all. Now he remembered. He was going to be late for the return trip home to Malfoy Manor.

Hastily, he changed into his grey suit and brown shoes, before taking a look in the mirror. Yeah, still the same blond-haired boy that came to Hogwarts all those years ago. My, how things had changed, how he changed from being the bully to now… not knowing what to do with himself. There was only one thing to do: have breakfast. Well, he was ready to go… oh, he remembered. He grabbed his clothes and put them in his trunk. He wasn't going to be late. Not now, not ever. However, there was one thing he didn't count on, when opening the door…

"Oh, excuse me," said a dark-haired witch, wearing a green business apparel. She looked around, wondering, "Excuse me, but do you work here?"

"No, I don't," Draco said, quite confused. "Do you?"

"No," the witch said, smiling. "You wouldn't happen to know where Draco Malfoy is."

"I'm he," he said, patting his chest.

"Here," the witch passed to him a note. "It's from your father. He's expecting you to be home within the hour."

"Right." He smirked, glancing at the note to the witch. "I've no doubt he's expecting me." He asked, curtly, "Who are you?"

"I'm Astoria Greengrass," the witch introduced herself. She extended a hand to him. "And you're…"

"You can call me Draco," he said, shaking her hand.

"Draco," she smiled at him. "It's a fine day to meet someone so distinguished."

He released her hand. "I can rightfully assure you, it's nothing."

"Well, I'll see you later," she said, darting down the hallway with her briefcase.

"Yeah. I'll see you later," he said, already fascinated by her beauty and manners. There would come a time when Draco would propose to Astoria. For now, it was a pleasant first meeting between the future Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy.


	42. Enough

And we're back to Ron Weasley…

o-o-o

 **82.) Enough**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **172**

Ron couldn't take it anymore. Enough was enough. There was something terribly wrong and he needed to fix it. But what could it be? Could it be the trees outside? No. They were fine. Could it be the water's first light? No, the water was fine. Oh, what on earth could it be? Hm…

"Hermione!" Ron cried loudly.

Hermione trampled into the kitchen. "What is it, Ronald?"

"This steak is too tough. Go fetch me another one!" Ron said, passing the plate back to her. "And get me some whipped cream, too!"

"Humph. Of all the nerve," Hermione said, storming back to the stove.

"Thank you!" Ron said, hoping his wife heard him.

Hermione smirked, "You're welcome, Ron. Here you are." She passed to him a new plate, filled with the juicy steak.

"This looks divine," Ron said, digging into his meal. "Mm… so good."

"I'm glad you like it," Hermione said, shaking her head.

And Ron did, much to Hermione's relief. Yes, it was a good day to be a Weasley.


	43. So Close

This particular prompt reminds me of the song "So Close" from the Disney movie "Enchanted". I had to do something with the prompt. So, this drabble was created. :)

o-o-o

 **97.) So Close**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **167**

Frodo could hardly believe it. Those words… the way he broke up with Pearl Took. It happened so fast, so quickly he could barely contain himself. In the end, he might always wonder what would happen to him if he stayed with Pearl, to feel her so close to him. He could've burst at the thought of leaving her, but it was for the best. He and Pearl just weren't compatible, and he knew it to be true.

So, what could he do now? Well live, of course, and move on with his life. It was the right thing to do in the end, for both their sakes. He would find another way to cope with this loss, even as far as going on a quest with his friends. For in the end, he would choose friendship, but would he ever find love again? For all he knew, that was in the distance. For now, he would just live and stay living until the end of time.


	44. Flair

I realize I might or might not have wrote anything with a crossover between _The Lord of the Rings_ and the movie series "Transformers". So, here's drabble or a one-shot I wrote finally bringing the two worlds together… with cars. :)

o-o-o

 **50.) Flair**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **607**

Frodo found himself wandering through Hobbiton's stables. It was a nice day out and, with that, he figured why not make his rounds there and see Strider, his pony. He sighed, glad that Aragorn offered up one on the way home. Oh, what would he do without…

"WHOA!" Frodo jumped back inside the stall, land back first against the fence. He was lucky it was sturdy… sort of. He broke some of the beams with his weight. If it hadn't been for the yellow fender… wait. Yellow fender? How would he know? He spun around fast. Before him was a sleek metallic yellow beast with no eyes and a large window. His hand rubbed against the smooth, sleek surface. It sure had the added flair to it. "What are you?" Did the inanimate beast talk? He didn't know.

Static brought about a strange male voice, telling him, "I am a car. You gonna get inside or what?"

"Thank you," Thank you? Why was he saying 'thank you'? "Um… I guess. Oh." The door opened for him. He jumped into the front seat. There was a black wheel on the front. Okay. This was new. "What do I do?"

"I'm gonna teach you how to drive," the car answered, automatically slamming the driver's side door next to Frodo. The hobbit jumped a little at the sound.

"Wait a minute! Drive? I'm not ready to drive. Who are you?" Frodo panicked.

"Bumblebee," said the male voice. "Now, the first thing you do…"

…

"YA HOO!" Frodo screamed in joy as he spun in circles a couple of times. Although he heard Bumblebee encouraging him, he couldn't seem to convince himself to stop. He dodged one obstacle to the next as best he could, nearly rammed through a mailbox, but righted himself again. He hadn't expecting driving to be this much fun, even after Bumblebee stopped and let him out. Frodo scrambled to keep his balance afterwards, but still… he couldn't wait for another lesson…

"Eh. Sorry Frodo, I must leave," Bumblebee said, getting the hobbit's attention.

"Oh please. Let's do another lesson," Frodo suggested, almost pleading.

"Eh. Sorry about this. I have another planet to visit. Maybe in another time or place, we'll see each other again," Bumblebee said, his parts switching into arms, legs and a body. Frodo stared in awe at the sight of the transformation. He was confused and entranced. Was Bumblebee always an alien? Or had he hidden himself as a car to give Frodo lessons? Even so, Frodo knew more about cars now, thanks to Bumblebee. He couldn't just leave… but Bumblebee did. The alien saluted him, then used his legs to propel himself into the air.

Frodo sighed in defeat. He would miss the alien, but did this really mean their lessons were over? He only had one lesson with the alien. Then again, he came to a decision: he would try driving again when Bumblebee or another sports car came back to teach him. But when would that moment come. He feared he might never know. All he knew for now was that it was time to say goodbye to the alien, ending the discussion there. And he did say farewell to Bumblebee with a smile and a wave.

"See you later, Bumblebee," Frodo said, happy at least to have known the alien. Even if it was for a short time. There was nothing left to do, except stumble on his way back to Bag End as best he could. For now, this was the end of the road on his way to driving a sports car and it felt good nonetheless.


	45. Horse

I'm sorry once again for the delay. Working on the Hobbit Wizards series and I'm on the last fanfic for the series. Anyway, here's another drabble, ready to be read. :)

o-o-o

 **19.) Horse**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **150**

Phillip was a grey pony with a lot of humor attached. He loved his grass. He loved his sister Penelope, who was a dappled grey pony, so much that he even shared some of his grass with her. Nothing could stand in the way of… oh no! It was that bumbling knight, Sir Cadogan! The last knight he wanted riding him everywhere. Maybe Penelope would have a better sense of humor than this.

 _Phillip!_ Penelope cried, only in thought.

 _NO!_ Phillip whinnied.

It was too late. He was forced to ride out with the bumbling knight to the dragon's lair. Great. And now… now, the only way his sister could find him was through portrait. He wanted to get out of this mess! Oh, of all the worst things that could happen to him. This was a mistake. And now… now he could never get home. Just perfect. Oh no.


	46. In a pinch

I don't often write POVs from other hobbits' perspectives. This one is on Rosie and it makes sense, given the title.

o-o-o

 **21.) In a pinch**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **400**

In truth, Rosie Cotton was the fastest waitress in all of the Green Dragon inn. She could do it all in the nick of time, right when someone asked her to brew them something special. Well, today was one such busy lunch hour. It wasn't normally this busy inside the wood paneled walled and floor inn, but on this day proved that normality wrong.

"Rosie, hand me five kegs of beer," said one curly, middle-aged hobbit, waiting on his beer.

"In a pinch, Mr. Blotwich," Rosie said, handing to him a fresh mug of beer.

"Thank'ee madam," Mr. Blotwich said, with a warm toothy grin. Rosie chuckled uncomfortably.

"Is this a bad time?" Rosie asked him, curtly.

"Well, I just imagine how a pretty thing like you is not taken," Mr. Blotwich said, still grinning affectionately.

"Um…" she had to make an excuse, but one was already found. That of Samwise Gamgee, who was quite disturbed to see this reaction about his wife.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Blotwich? That's my wife you're talkin' to," Sam said, intervening at the right time.

"I'm very sorry then," Mr. Blotwich said, setting some coins on the table and leaving the inn unharmed. Rosie sighed in relief. And it was a huge relief.

"Now, what's been happenin'?" Sam asked his wife, as she buffed the counter.

"Oh, that Mr. Blotwich still can't figure out if I'm married or not. He's just… grrr!" She snarled, out of her wits.

"Well, I'll keep him out of your hair, Rosie, or someone here will do so for you," Sam said, protectively.

"Thank you, Sam," Rosie said, holding his hand. Indeed, this was going to be a long day, but at least she wouldn't have to deal with Mr. Blotwich anytime soon. She nonetheless hoped he would choose a different pub, but if anything went wrong, well… she was lucky to have family there to protect her in these times. Even if the War of the Ring was over, one thing was clear: there were always going to be battles that needed to be fought.

And this battle, for sure, had been won this day for her and her family. She would thank Sam for this, for sure, as soon as she got home. A Shepard's pie sounded like a fitting meal for a peaceful time as this and she would enjoy it to the bitter end.


	47. Wine

I know I mention Dorwinion wine a lot, but that isn't the only wine in Middle-earth. Here is another wine, closer at home to the Shirefolk.

o-o-o

 **23.) Wine**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **100**

Frodo drank down another mug of Old Winyards red wine. It had a tart flavor to it, but also a rambunctious sweetness that gave away much of its flavor. But even as he sat in the parlor, gazing out Bag End's window, one thing was clear to him, at this moment of time: "This is good wine." And it was good. He knew that much. What else was there to know? Oh well. Time for another mug of wine. And maybe some friends over… no. He would finish the bottle. Yes, that was right. Nothing more needed to be said.


	48. Reign

Okay, so I just finished watching the series finale of CW's show "Reign". It was a sad ending, and since I watched the show so much, this drabble is for it and on Mary, Queen of Scots.

o-o-o

 **39.) Reign**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **115**

Mary Stuart had just been beheaded. But her life flashed before her eyes. Her years with Francis when they were crowned King and Queen of France. Through every danger she faced, and now following recent events when she gave birth to James, the ruler to unite Scotland and England, nothing and nobody could stand in the way of her reign. But that was over. Now, here she was, frolicking on the lush green grass with her beloved Francis. She was home at long last, reunited with her lover. And he held her in his arms, both dressed in white. Her story was done now. There was no more to say except two words: the end.


	49. Responsibility

Since there are so few crossovers with "Wonder Woman" and _The Lord of the Rings_ , here is where I am writing my first crossing with these two fandoms together. Let's see how it goes. :)

o-o-o

 **76.) Responsibility**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **421**

 _The sun beat down against his neck. It was so hot outside, and yet the wind blowing made things cool. Here he was, Sting on hand, fighting a creature with black hair and donned in a short, red armored dress. No way. He was… too late. She blasted him with rippled light. He was thrown backwards, unable to move on the ground. She approached him with a fair face, stronger and fairer than even Galadriel's. Who was this woman?_

" _Who are you?" he asked, concern in his eyes._

" _I am Diana. Diana Prince. You may call me Wonder Woman, Frodo Baggins," Diana said, extending a hand to him. Frodo glanced up at her and took her hand. He knew he could trust her. He just couldn't keep his eyes off of her beauty, radiating so fully before him._

" _Well, I now know your name, but what are you?" Frodo asked, hoping not to offend her._

" _I am an Amazon. I was created by Zeus and am here on a mission. A responsibility to my people," Diana explained as best she could. "And what's your responsibility? Why have you come to this island?"_

" _I don't… rightly know…" he was hesitant. Should he answer her? He didn't even know what his task was about, or what he was up against… if he was against anything at all. There was no danger on this island… not yet… what was that dog-like creature coming after him, knocking him to the ground! He closed his eyes, hearing Diana's voice fading away, lurking in the darkness surrounding him…_

Frodo opened his eyes. He remained still on his soft bed. The feather pillow felt so good to his head. His neck felt better, but the memory of the dream stayed fresh in his mind. Who was that Amazon? Diana was her name. Wonder Woman she was called, her title he meant. She looked so beautiful. Why couldn't he take his eyes off of her? He didn't know. Was this always going to be a weakness for him? Why couldn't he think of anything else?

Oh. Now he knew his responsibility. Quickly, he strolled into the bathroom, taking his time until he was finished. His other responsibility, the second he was out of the restroom… why, go on his morning stroll, of course. And he did that, while the dream lingered. He wouldn't forget it, nor the Amazons. Who were they? Well, he would find out about them soon, if he could at all. For now, this would do.


	50. Waves

It's the fiftieth drabble for this challenge! Enjoy. :)

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 **95.) Waves**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **107**

Frodo collapsed on the Lonely Island's white sandy shoreline. It had been so long since he heard the crashing of the waves, with its clear, crystal waters. The very thought of the sea kept his thoughts in check. How he wished he could stay out here as long as he wanted, without ever having to take another step back into this new world he now called home. If only he could… but sadly, he couldn't. It was time for lunch.

The merfolk would have to wait another hour until he was finished eating… if any merfolk came at all. Ah! Well, he could dream then, couldn't he?


	51. Delegations

I'm in a Cinderella mood and this idea just popped into my head. :)

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 **54.) Delegations**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **378**

The fangirls were all lined up, but they weren't alone. Out of all the delegations present for Hobbiton's spring festival, there also were women from different timelines, worlds, and realms. Enough to drive any man to choose them. However, the fangirls were on a mission: they were after the brown-haired, blue eyed hobbit Frodo Baggins, who was in the middle of a conversation.

"We love you!" one fangirl cried out in exasperation.

Frodo's eyes widened with worry. He turned his attention to Pearl Took, who grinned with satisfaction. "Pearl, did you know they would be here?"

"Of course. I invited them." Pearl said, smiling between sipping her orange cider.

"You did _what?_ " Frodo asked, alarmed and annoyed. "Pearl, how could you invite all these…" he grinned sheepishly at all the girls and women, "…darling women?"

"I didn't invite all of them to this party. Just the fangirls. I hear they admire you so very well." Pearl said, snickering in joyous delight. "Here. Let me pick a fangirl for you to dance with."

" _No!_ " Frodo cried, pulling her back. He spoke behind his teeth. "Pearl, why don't you go and speak with Sam."

"I really don't think this is necessary," Pearl said, quite confused.

"Please," Frodo spoke up in turn. "Thank you."

"You're going to regret this," Pearl said, moving away to speak with Sam.

"You're welcome," Frodo said aloud, moving towards all the women and speaking to them with vigorous honesty. "I'm sorry for the mix up, but I'm afraid the party's over. I'm sorry you didn't get the chance to dance with me, but thank you." He returned to Sam and Pearl, telling Pearl flat out, "You see. It wasn't too hard."

"Come on, Frodo. You can't stay single forever," Pearl announced, annoyed.

"That's why I'll wait for the right one," Frodo answered, facing her again. "And I'm afraid it may come unexpectedly." It was the last word he said to her before the night was over. Even then he wished it went on longer. Maybe one of the fangirls was meant for him, or one of the women at least. Oh, he didn't know which one. Very quickly, he drained his glass and left the party. It was time for a nap. A very _long_ nap.


	52. Stuck

Sorry once again for the delay. This time was short and I was stuck, hence the prompt, on what to write for this drabble. Anyway, I did my best.

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 **31.) Stuck**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **154**

Frodo dipped the hawk's brown feather quill tip into the black ink. The ink dripped a few times into the glass bottle. Gently, he stroked the tip against the sides of the ink bottle, resting the quill a few inches from the blank sheet of parchment paper. _Right,_ he thought, _I've got this. I can do this. Now, what to write…_

"Come on! I can't be this stuck!" Frodo cried out, softly. He was eager to write something, but his ideas were moving away from him. Moving away, away from him… like little, fluffy, biting rabbits! Wait. What? He was interested in writing about rabbits. His eyes widened when he started writing down his thoughts on the sheet of paper.

 _Once there were three rabbits…_

"How do I do it?" He asked aloud. He honestly didn't know what to say, only the rabbits got their wish. And he might as well continue the story.

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Thanks for reading. :)


	53. Brew

I know this is not book canon, but movie canon. I just thought I'd try it out. Also, sorry for the delay again. I was not feeling well, but now I am and can write again. Here we go. :)

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 **24.) Brew**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **115**

Hamfast Gamgee, with brown hair and a middle-aged hobbit, went by the name of Gaffer to all who knew him. But that wasn't the only part of him that was prized. Indeed, his Home Brew made all the hobbit men's hearts quaver with delight. He knew what he was doing when he made his specialty alcoholic beverage, mixed with ingredients that were known only to his family. Even then, he had to let the Green Dragon have a taste of his brew. And they liked it. He knew they would. Where to next? Why, to his neighbor Bilbo Baggins, of course! It was time to test the brew out to the fullest… no matter what.


	54. Maybe

I have a new beta reader! REMdream is beta reading my stories, etc. This is the first drabble she is beta reading for me. Thank you, REMdream, again. :)

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 **65.) Maybe**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **115**

Frodo Baggins stared out at the clear, crystal water. The waves rolled onto the white, sandy shore and crashed onto the smooth rocks of a nearby cliff. Their soothing rhythm calmed his spirit, and yet, as he looked up at the bright noon sky, a thought crossed his mind that maybe, just maybe, his best friend, Samwise Gamgee, was coming to Tol Eressëa, the island he was on. He could dream; could imagine the situation when he and Sam reunited. For now, he could hope, and that in turn, might be enough – at least until the time came when they were reunited at last. For now, this thought would do. For now, he could breathe.

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Thanks for reading. :) More drabbles are on their way.


	55. Forgiveness

Since I did a drabble on the CW show "Reign", this drabble is solely focused on crossing _The Lord of the Rings_ with history. Mainly what would happen if Anne Boleyn met Frodo Baggins. Let's see how it goes. :) This chapter was beta read by REMdream.

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 **63.) Forgiveness**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **761**

Anne Boleyn polished her silver framed mirror at least five times that day. The metal was worn from years of use but it still retained its beauty. It was something her mother had treasured, passed on to her with every breath in her body. Her mother's words rippled on the glass, even as she turned it over to gaze into a face that was plain with locks of brunette hair draped over her shoulders, the words were still so clear.

Keep this mirror with you, always, my darling Anne. May you never forget what is written. You are everything to me. Everything…

Anne's vision broke from the gold infused letters; the vision of flames left the mirror, and another face was revealed in her red, tapestry room. It was that of a child, but not so much. It was a man at the same time, with thick, curly brown hair and bright blue eyes. His face which she could not forget, was fair and elvish, much like she was also fair in her own right, but no. This could not be! How was a man in her chamber, when she was not yet wed? She spun around, facing the man wearing English clothing. No, he was in her room, and he had pointed ears! How… how…

"Get out!" Anne screamed, pointing to the door.

"Whoa, whoa!" the man raised his hands in defeat. "I meant no disrespect." he spoke more calmly.

"Who are you?!" Anne said, her words inflamed with fury. She stopped herself from grabbing a silver jewelry box when her gaze met that of his feet, which also had thick, curly brown hair. "Your feet." She was intrigued. "They're…"

"I know," the man remarked, sheepishly. "They're hairy." he added, extending a hand to her. "I'm Frodo, by the way. Frodo Baggins. I meant no disrespect, but your door was wide open." he admitted, "I'm only passing through."

"Oh," Anne said, softly, moving her hand away from her jewelry box. "Did my father send for you?"

Frodo shook his head, "No. I came on my own." He said, calm and coolly, "I came from a distant land, and…" he lowered his head in shame, "…I'm afraid I don't know how I got here."

"How old are you?" Anne asked, curious and suspicious.

"I'm twenty-eight," he said, sadness building on his face. "I'm sorry. Just coming here and seeing your parents made me think… if my own had been with me. If I could ever forgive myself." He sighed, doing his best to keep his composure intact, "Then again, who am I fooling? I'm a hobbit. I'll get over it." he grinned, a little pain in his eyes. "What about you? Can you seek forgiveness?"

"For what? I haven't done anything," she asked, her brow furrowing in a quizzical manner.

"One day, you will have to forgive," he said, a knowing look across his face. "You may not see it, but my foresight just knows." He grabbed a nearby plume hat with a white fluffy feather attached to the brim which must have been his, "Listen, I have to go. It was nice speaking to you."

Anne nodded, grinning but also confused, "And to you." She looked down at the tiled floor. No. He couldn't leave just yet. What if there was more to tell? More she needed to know? "Wait! Wait!" she rushed towards the front door with its red painted surface, and there he was, Frodo Baggins, standing there, gazing into her eyes. In one swelling, flushed moment, her world was turned upside down once again when his soft lips touched hers, making her blush red, further. She didn't know what to do or what would happen next, but… she opened her mouth and released him from the kiss.

But he was gone. She was locked in the darkness, opening her eyes to a moonlit night sky. Her back leaned up against a tree. She checked herself. Her satin dress was still the same. Her brown leather books were the same as well. Frodo wasn't near her. But she was late and the king would be arriving in the morning. The hobbit she dreamed. Would she see him again? She wondered that, but only time would tell. In the end, it was not to be so. Frodo did not return to her physically, but only in her dreams when she needed him most. And she did need him, as her guide, even unto the day of her execution, where she gave herself up to God's grace and God alone.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	56. Love

Thank you REMdream for beta-reading the rest of this challenge for me. It is much appreciated.

Okay, so I'm watching the first season of "Game of Thrones". Here is the character I've selected to write about for this drabble. Quite new territory for me. This drabble's rated T for language.

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 **43.) Love**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **109**

Tyrion Lannister was a blond-haired dwarf and a lover of many things. He loved his family and his books. He didn't mind working with the Night's Watch against the White Walkers and other beasts that haunted the Seven Kingdoms. The Wall, a thick sheet of ice and snow, was the only thing protecting them. If Tyrion had to keep watch of Jon Snow and his mop of curly, black hair; treat him like family too, then he would do so.

"One bastard to another." as Tyrion pointed out to himself. He could relate to Jon and that was all he needed to know to last him an entire night.

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Thanks for reading. :)


	57. Favorite

Crossing _The Lord of the Rings_ with "Pirates of the Caribbean" once again. Let's see how it goes. :)

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 **46.) Favorite**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **480**

Frodo Baggins opened his eyes. The afternoon sun beat above his head, but the cool shade under the Party Tree was soothing. Yet, here he was; witnessing his best friends attempting to see who was the most favorited member of the Fellowship. For some reason, with Aragorn's arrival in the Shire also brought about Legolas and Gimli's, who were first-timers to the peaceful hobbit's lifestyle at the heart of their homeland.

"I'm the most favorite of the Fellowship," Legolas announced with ease.

"Yes, but people seem to praise me a lot," Sam said, pained, "although I don't know why they do it. I don't deserve this sympathy, this recognition."

Frodo chuckled. "Sure you do, Sam. You deserve it with much gladness."

"It's true." Pippin said, encouraging him. "Without you, Frodo wouldn't have completed the deed."

Frodo closed this mouth. He failed in the quest. It was Gollum who destroyed the Ring, and yet… and yet, he couldn't help but wonder if his actions were the result of the mission coming to a success. He should have seen it coming. But then, it seemed Legolas and Sam received much of the praise, more than he. Maybe they were everyone's favorites after all.

"What about me?" cried Jack Sparrow with his leather tricorn hat, running up along the Lake's shore with his hands flailing about. "What do I get out of it?"

"You're already a likeable pirate," Frodo chuckled, beside himself with amusement.

"Jack Sparrow," Legolas glared at the pirate captain. "Just the man I wanted to see."

Jack stopped mid-step, right in front of the blond-haired elf and leaned backwards as he stared, "Whoa. Who made you to look like Will Turner? Ehhh?"

"Is this really going to be another subject on Jack Sparrow?" Pippin asked, resting his head on his knees.

"What?" Jack asked, confused, "Don't I liven up the room?"

"How did he become a lead protagonist?" Sam asked, mystified.

"Excuse me, but you're talking about a rogue, handsome pirate." Jack said with ease. "Am I right?" He looked around for confirmation.

"He's taking over everyone's spotlight," Frodo said, annoyed.

"Are we not talking about me?" Jack asked, confused. "Or are we talking about the elf with the pointy ears and the ever so green forest-y pajamas?"

"These are archer's clothes!" Legolas immediately huffed in frustration. "I wear them to make it easier to hunt."

"More like decay," the pirate said, softly.

"Do you want to…" Legolas glared at the pirate, only to be stopped by Gimli.

"Easy! Don't let him fool you." Gimli said, calmly.

"You really are in my shadow," Legolas said, walking away.

"I'm only trying to help. Wait!" Gimli said, charging after him.

Frodo chuckled softly as he leaned back into the shade of the Party Tree once more. He couldn't believe that all it took to end the debate was a very illogical pirate.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	58. Storms

Well, since I did a crossover drabble between "Thor" and _The Lord of the Rings_ , I'm doing it again. Should be interesting. :)

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 **49.) Storms**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **311**

Frodo sat in the Green Dragon inn, enjoying his second breakfast with great ease. In all the two years' time since he'd become the Master of Bag End, nothing could prepare him for this. Sure, he knew there were some things hobbits prized on, but to see the blond-haired Thor wolf down as much food as he was… clearly there was something up.

"Thor," Frodo said, getting his attention, "you are the son of Odin and a pig. You're worse than a hobbit. Don't you tire of eating so much food?" He shrugged. "Not that I could object, though."

"I'm ravished," Thor said, between mouthfuls.

"That's your tenth glass of apple cider." Frodo said, pointing out.

"I'm not surprised you don't eat just as much as I." Thor said with a smile. "I am a god and you are a hobbit. Gods eat more than hobbits, don't they?"

"I rest my case," Frodo said softly, shaking his head in dismay and near laughter. It was unbelievable.

Unfortunately, Frodo's laughter died out the second Thor stood up and said, "Well, I must be going. The storms are passing and now I take my leave."

"Wait," Frodo stood up then as well, "you're not leaving, are you? Middle-earth still needs a hero."

"They have one," Thor said, pointing to him. "You are their hero."

"I was talking about a superhero," Frodo added, reflecting.

"I am not a superhero. I... am a god." Thor said, readying his hammer, "I have things to do; places to be, but if you need me, look up." With that, he sailed through the giant hole he crafted in the ceiling.

Frodo looked on, wondering when the next time would be when he would see Thor again. In all likeness, it was fair chance that they met, and now it was over. Now, they returned to their normal lives.

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Thanks for reading. :)


	59. Pipe weed

Sorry for the delay. This drabble was being beta read by REMdream. Now its complete. :)

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 **25.) Pipe weed**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **132**

Bilbo quietly sat in front of Bag End with his smoking pipe on hand. He dabbled the pipe weed inside the pipe and with a few turns the pipe was ready to smoke with. Quietly, he sat down at last on the bench in front of Bag End. It was so peaceful at this hour as he blew smoke rings up into the evening sky. What could possibly ever go wrong here? The Shire was as green as ever and the songbirds lit up the night sky. Everything was perfect.

And oh! There was Frodo, youthful and perky as always, heading up the stone steps and into the house. Bilbo smiled to himself. He raised that lad well. So well enough that it was time for more pipe-weed and another smoke ring.

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Thanks for reading. :)


	60. Hoard

Sorry for the long delay. I was deciding which prompt to work on next.

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 **27.) Hoard**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **147**

Thranduil the Elven-king was not one to leave behind gold and jewels, but his precious silver gems meant the world to him. They were part of his hoard, his collection of jewels he couldn't stand to lose. But seeing those gems in the hands of the dwarves, upon reclaiming Erebor – no! He shook his head. He wouldn't stand for it. No. He would get his gems back from the filthy dwarves, even if it was the last thing he did.

But first, he would need a drink of Dorwinion wine. Yes, that settled his nerves. Brillaint! Now he could concentrate on collecting his prize, no matter what. He just hoped that Thorin Oakenshield was in the mood to talk sensibly. He doubted it, but it would be worth the effort and in the end, he would have his prize. Those gems belonged to him. They did indeed.

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Thanks for reading. :)


	61. Stone

Another 'Hobbit' drabble that inspired this prompt. :)

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 **28.) Stone**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **150**

Thorin Oakenshield, the greatest dwarf in the whole wide world, couldn't keep track of one stone. One stone! The Arkenstone, no less. Oh, how he longed to have that stone in his hands right now. Thranduil, the Elven-king, wanted his jewels, the white gems he so longed to seek. But what Thorin Oakenshield wanted most was that one wretched stone, the King's Jewel, the Arkenstone. A treasure beyond all measure. So, where was it? Where did it go?

He would learn too late or too soon that Bilbo Baggins, the hobbit, the burglar who snuck into Erebor, retrieved the Arkenstone and passed it onto Bard the Bowman and Thranduil, the Elven-king. That hobbit would pay with his dear life, if only this dwarf didn't have to pay with his own life in return. Well, a life for a life, but at least the Arkenstone was safe and in good hands.

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Thanks for reading. :)


	62. Embellish

Okay. More Thranduil madness in this chapter. I must be in the 'Hobbit' mood today, for some reason.

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 **29.) Embellish**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **323**

Legolas found himself wandering in the halls of the Woodland Realm. Not only did he think he was alone, but then… no wait. It was too quiet! Where was his father? No. He found him all right, polishing up gems to embellish their magnificence. Did he miss something?

"Ada!" Legolas cried, entering the throne room. "I thought we were out seeking orcs."

"Yes, you may go and do that, Legolas," Thranduil craned his head slowly, reveling in the moment. "I will not wait another minute."

"Ada?" Legolas asked, stunned to hear these words. But Thranduil did not break for one second.

"Not another word, son," Thranduil said, sitting down in one of his red leafed wooden chairs. "Now go, before I call the guard."

"You can't do this, ada. Not to your own son…."

"You heard me. Don't return until I see an orc's head on a platter!" Thranduil had no idea how right these words were when, an hour later, Legolas returned with an orc's head on a platter. "I didn't mean literally, Legolas."

"Well, here it is," Legolas said, frustrated. "Just like you asked."

Thranduil pitched the orc's head with ease. "Find me Lindir. We're going to have a little chat about your business affairs."

"But ada…."

"Not another word! Now go, and find me a musical instrument." Thranduil sank into his chair, unaware that at that moment, Legolas plucked a clarinet from a nearby elf. "I said not literally."

"Father, you are asking too much," Legolas said, pleading with him. "If you'll give me more time."

"Embellish something! That's it." Thranduil approached his table with ease.

"Ada, I refuse to do anymore tasks for you." Legolas stomped out of the room without question.

Thranduil shook his head, sighing deeply. "He'll return. He always does." And his son would return, whether by hook or crook, he would get him to perform more tasks whether Legolas liked it or not.

The End.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	63. Boot

Sorry for the delay. I've been working on a fanfic and a collab. Hopefully, this turns out all right and someone from the 1992 movie "Aladdin" makes their appearance. :)

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 **30.) Boot**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **123**

"SQUAWK!" Iago the red parrot chirped as another boot kicked him out into the sands beyond the city Agrabah. This was ridiculous! He was a parrot of good fortune, good wealth. He knew a thing or two about crackers. One could never be denied crackers for nothing. Why then did he have to go through this ordeal? Maybe he was fortunate to still be in one piece. "Of all the nerve. I'll find some crackers yet. Maybe storm the palace and see what Jasmine has for me. No sense in letting the Genie wreak havoc." He chuckled. "Who knows what he's up to, right? Right?! RIGHT, WHERE'S THE BEEF?!"

Well, he could always have time for a cracker or two. Yes he could.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	64. Youth

**33.) Youth**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **106**

Arwen Undómiel had much to live for. Her youth and beauty outranked any, but only equal to that of her grandmother Galadriel. She could have had it all, including sailing west to the Undying Lands. She gave that all up with passing unto the brown-haired hobbit Frodo Baggins her pendant, as well as granting him access to take her place aboard the ship heading West from the Grey Havens. Frodo took it, but with a promise: that he would receive healing and a peaceful end.

In time, Arwen succumbed to her grief, after losing Aragorn. But she would not be forgotten. Nay, she wouldn't be forgotten.

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Thanks for reading. :)


	65. Stumble

**34.) Stumble**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **170**

Frodo was twelve years old when he thought about leaping over mud puddles. It was ridiculous, but he had to do it. Gently, he stepped over one puddle, then another. Soon, his heart raced inside his chest. He leapt over more than one puddle, hoping he would succeed. And then – SPLAT! – his foot stepped hard and fast on a large puddle. Mud splattered his green shirt and dark green knee breeches. Perfect. What's worse is he moved too soon, collapsing onto the dirt road and splashing puddle water all the more on himself. Great. How was he to get this stuff off now?

Oh, Aunt Esmeralda, he thought as he ran back to Brandy Hall. He just hoped his aunt wasn't too mad when she saw him. That would unnerve him the most. Still, it had to be done for his clothes sake and for himself, who was now dripping wet in wet muddy water. There would be a resolution to this mess. He would see to that for sure.

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Thanks for reading. :)


	66. Defeat

**35.) Defeat**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **230**

Legolas was not one to admit defeat. Never, never, never had he shot so crudely. Why then did he have to miss the target again and again? Was he ever going to get good at archery? He hoped someday he would. At the same time, he was still an elfling with much to learn. The trick here was admitting defeat and accepting it. If only he could do that.

"Remember Legolas," Thranduil said, lowering his head and pointing to the target, "it isn't the arrows that count. It's how you make them that matters most here."

"Will I ever be as good at archery as you?" Legolas asked, intrigued.

"Many times in my youth. Not so much now," Thranduil answered. "Not when I have a son to tend to." He spoke again. "Now, concentrate on the target, let loose, hold steady and let the arrow fly." Legolas released the string. The arrow flew in the air, eventually finding its target. A bullseye. Thranduil applauded him for his efforts. "Well done. You're getting there."

"Will I be as good as you once were?" Legolas asked again, but different.

"One day, son, you'll be the best archer in all of the Woodland Realm." Thranduil said, packing his son's bow and arrow. "Now, let's go eat some lunch."

"Right," Legolas said, following his father up the stairs and out of the archery range.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	67. You Only Live Once!

We're back with the characters of _Harry Potter_. Oh look! Harry's got a new broom. :)

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 **36.) You Only Live Once!**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **137**

Harry never thought he'd own a broomstick, quite like the Nitro 360. Faster than the Firebolt. It could zip through telephone lines like nobody's business. He had to try it and see what he could do. So, gathering his courage, he mounted the broomstick and flew, flew, flew… smack into a tree! That was not what he wanted. He tried again. He flew, flew, flew… right into a telephone pole! Something was up with this broomstick. Maybe if he tried again, he would have better results.

"Harry, lunchtime!" Ginny's voice rang in the air.

Harry sat up. Had he really been asleep and dreaming of crashing into things? Well, he could only live once. Besides, lunch sounded like a right nice idea. And he would do just that, knowing it was quite safe and out of danger.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	68. Lost

Another _Peter Pan_ drabble and the second part to the Flying drabble from my fanfic, _Frodo Baggins' One Hundred Drabble Moments_.

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 **37.) Lost**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **246**

Frodo sat on the bed in his room at Brandy Hall. He had lost so much. His parents were gone and now he was sent to live with his cousins. He was twelve years old and already he felt like a lost boy. More than anything he wished he could go to Neverland, to spend his days there and never have to grow up. But would it make things worse?

He slept on through the night, only to become startled by the boy dressed as if he were a part of nature. It was Peter Pan, the boy who never grew up.

"Why are you crying?" Peter asked, curious.

"My parents are dead," he snapped. "What's it to you?"

"I can take you away to Neverland," the boy suggested.

"I don't know," he answered.

"Come on," Peter asked, flying on the dresser. "It'll be fun. You never have to grow up. Think on it for a second, but don't think too long. I have places to be."

Frodo did give it some thought. A place where he'd never have to grow up. Could he really give up everything? Last time, he couldn't go because his parents caught him, and it caused Peter to disappear. This time, he had the opportunity. With one nod, he took Peter's hand, was sprinkled with pixie dust by the fairy Tinkerbell. In the next instance, they were off to Neverland, where adventures galore awaited him. But that is for another story.

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Thanks for reading. :)


	69. Primary

Thought I'd do a "Hunger Games" drabble.

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 **38.) Primary**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **104**

For Katniss Everdeen, the primaries were over. Presidents Coin and Snow were dead, and now there was a new president elected for all of Panem. She couldn't believe it. They were free, free of the Hunger Games, free to do what they will. But even she knew what it meant, even with all the horrors she received at night. She could live her life again without interruption. She was home at last, even when she admitted to Peeta Mellark that she loved him. She knew where she belonged and she would keep at it. District 12 was where she belonged. So let's start again.

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Thanks for reading. :)


	70. Satisfied

Well, seeing as I'm working on my fanfic, _The Three Brothers_ , this little drabble came up and it stars our favorite parrot – eh, macaw named Clockwise. Inspired by Mike Baxter's Vlogs from ABC's television show "Last Man Standing". :)

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 **80.) Satisfied**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **293**

"Hello," Clockwise chirped. Yes, he was still at Fangorn Forest. But we'll get to that soon enough. "Welcome to Fangorn Forest." He said, pleasantly. I just said that. Now— "Thank you, Narrator! As I was saying, it's another glorious day out in Fangorn Forest. Why is it so glamorous?" He pressed a wing against his beak. "Have you seen how much hobbits drink in one day?"

He set his wing down, ready to talk some more. "Now, I'm not saying anything bad about hobbits. _No_ , of course I'm not! But what is the capacity that one of those hobbits won't have me for lunch? That's right. I'm talking about a depopulation in the parrot foundation. Parrots and macaws are buddies, best friends! It wouldn't do to kill one off, would it? But what do I know? I'm a helpless parrot with no degree and no wingspan the size of a golfball field. This brings me to my next point: what's next for dear old Clockwise? Well, let me say one thing: what's around that bend but a nice, smooth, sensational—"

"Clockwise, I found some fresh earthworms!" it was Rosalina, the blue macaw and his wife's voice calling him over.

"Got to go!" Clockwise said, flapping over to his wife. "What did I miss?"

"What did you do?" Pippin Took asked, curious.

"Pippin!" Merry Brandybuck said, surprised at his own cousin.

"What? I was just asking a question," Pippin said, stunned.

Clockwise sighed. "My friends, there's no question, no doubt, that life is good. And we must celebrate it as peacefully as we can. Squirrel!" He darted through the woods at top speed.

"He'll be back. He wouldn't miss supper for nothing." Rosalina was right, even in situations such as these.

The End.

o-o-o

Just an alternate take on what was going on during the Fangorn scenes. Thanks for reading. :)


	71. Point of no return

I thought I'd do a little "Phantom of the Opera" drabble. :)

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 **61.) Point of no return**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **160**

This was it. Christine Daaé's breath fell still, growing heavier with each second. The Phantom's hands were on her waist, drawing her in with each step. She felt more his as the opera continued. She wanted to be his. More than anything she wanted it. She opened her eyes and tore off the Phantom's mask, revealing a disfigured man whose name was Erik. They had reached the point of no return and there was no going back.

Erik dragged her to his lair.

She would find a way to brave this obstacle. She would do just that and maybe, maybe, she would be free. But how long could this last? She didn't know, but she wouldn't rest until she earned her freedom. That she would ensure would come true. For now, she would just have to face this danger alone. She only hoped that Raoul would come and save her, before it was too late to turn back once again.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	72. Growth

Now we're heading into the Shannara series. As I have read a majority of the books years ago, this drabble is more focused on "The Shannara Chronicles" television show.

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 **40.) Growth**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **111**

Wil Ohmsford had grown since his adventure to help Eretria and Amberle save the Ellcrys, a tree capable of keeping the demons locked in the Forbidding. The Forbidding was their prison, a place no one dared venture to. A dark place as it were. Then there was Wil, whose journey had turned him into a brave Halfling, half-human half-elf, capable of healing people and restoring the Shannara bloodline.

Now he was on a new mission, one he hoped to succeed at: saving Eretria, somewhere at Safehold, which had once been San Francisco. He only hoped he wasn't too late to save her from the trolls, if they captured her by now.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	73. Fear

It must be nearing October because I'm in the mood to write about vampires again. Hobbit vampires anyway. *mischievous grin*

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 **41.) Fear**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **203**

It was that hour. The witching hour where the moon was full and bright. But that didn't cease when the hobbits, dressed in robes and glistening with their pearly fangs, crept about in their castle made out of stone. One particular hobbit was keen on a feast. That hobbit was Frodo Baggins, who had only recently turned into a vampire himself.

"I must eat!" Frodo cried hoarsely. "I must… feed." His throat quaked with hunger. Hunger for blood. He must have it. And he did, sinking his teeth into a live wolf without remorse and tossing away the bones. He was starving and the warm blood tasted so good.

"Mr. Frodo," Samwise Gamgee's voice called in the air.

Frodo woke up, his throat quenching with thirst. There was no blood, but he needed some water. And he took it. Cool, crystal water that slaked his thirst and made him feel better. Still, what a vivid dream! He couldn't imagine anything worse, right? Right?! Oh well. The dream was over. He could move on now, as if the thought never occurred. And yet, even he couldn't resist the thought of becoming a vampire… no! NO! He was happy with being a hobbit. Enough said.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	74. Waiting

Time for an ABC's "Once Upon a Time" drabble.

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 **45.) Waiting**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **158**

The endless seconds ticked by in Storybrooke, Maine. Would the clock ever tick to the next number? Henry Mills, a ten-year-old boy with brown hair and a childish look in his eyes, waited outside his bedroom window. This evening, he felt sure something would happen to the time, something to prove that he wasn't going mad and that he wasn't telling stories. The book was real, the characters were real and the curse was real. It was only a matter of time….

.…the clock struck the next number. Henry smiled. Things were changing in Storybrooke after all and he knew it. His biological mother was changing things and it was just the beginning, the beginning of an adventure. He would see to that for sure. He was a hero and heroes always saved everyone, no matter what the circumstances may bring. This was that moment and he wouldn't miss it for the world, which needed a savior. Badly.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	75. Regrets

Inspired by the Disney game "Adventures in Typing with Timon and Pumbaa". Featuring talking bugs. :)

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 **52.) Regrets**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **269**

Frodo was having a pleasant, sleepy day in the woods of Tookland. It was a splendid day all right with no activity… hey! He just managed to move his head in time, before a berry splattered him. The second berry, on the other hand, smacked him on the left cheek. Disgusting! He looked up at the bugs, talking amongst themselves in a few holes. Wait. Bugs talked? What else was new?

"You can talk?" He asked, concerned.

"Oh look, there's the Halfling that squashed the ant's hole last week," the green bug said, annoyed.

"Let's pelt him with more berries!" said the blue bug, ready to throw another berry.

"Hey!" Frodo moved the book in front of his face. He couldn't prevent his fingers from being attacked… oh no! "OUCH!" He wringed his fingers a few times. There had to be a way to reason with these bugs. "Couldn't we talk in a more civilized environment?"

"Hey, you're right," the green bug told his buggy friends. "Come on, guys. Let's go find that warthog."

"Right! Sounds good," the blue bug said, following the other bugs down the hole.

Frodo sucked the side of his finger where the berry smacked him. It tasted between berry and fresh, warm blood. The wound wasn't bad, but at least the bugs were away. He sighed. What had he just went through? He didn't know. He instead returned to reading his book, as if the berry juice wasn't going to bother him. But then, that was enough excitement for one day, if he could say, in the least. Yes, it was enough excitement indeed.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	76. Cooking

**48.) Cooking**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **416**

Frodo sat out in the dining room, waiting for his food to arrive. It was easier said than done, for Frodo's friends were in charge of the kitchen. Already, he could hear them loud and clear, arguing over spices. Naturally, he would intervene, but was now the best time for this? Shouldn't he wait for the food to come to him? That sounded like a right nice idea. He closed his eyes, imagining rabbits… rabbits multiplying and then turning into coney stew. Oh, he could smell that stew now.

"Pippin, did you get the basil right?" Merry's voice protruded in the air. "This tastes like you put too much basil in the sauce! We can't eat this."

"What are you talkin' about?" Sam asked, concerned. "That's the right amount. Mr. Frodo'll eat it. He likes that much spice in his sauce."

"I thought I did it right," Pippin said, his voice rising in the air. "Didn't I? I thought I did it right."

"That's too much spice for me," Merry said, not understanding.

Frodo smirked. Ah Merry, just like him to behave this way, even in circumstances such as these. But the air smelled amazing. What was it? Stuffed mushrooms? Mmm. There was some sort of sauce to go with it. It couldn't possibly be… oh. It couldn't be liver. He could tolerate liver, but only for so long. If only his friends cooked him something better than liver. Oh, maybe they did. There it was. Crusty bread with a mixture of warm butter, and drizzled in red pepper sauce. That's what he was smelling when his friends set the food on the table.

"You'll be the first to taste this sauce," Sam told him, as Frodo grabbed a plate and took a slice of the drizzled bread off the hot dish. "It's Pippin's latest craving."

"Basil pepper sauce," Pippin said with a nod. "I made it myself."

"I told you, you put too much basil in the sauce," Merry chided in frustration. Nevertheless, Frodo bit down on the bread. It was a little spicy, but he could handle that. And that sauce, that tangy sauce brought about so much flavor, evening out the spice. He nodded, grinning happily. Merry was surprised. "How is it?"

"It's good," Frodo said between bites. "Something I would cook."

"See," Pippin said with a sigh, "I knew it would work out."

Frodo laughed. "Of course it did, Pippin." He sighed, going after another slice of bread. "Of course it did."

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	77. First friend

The prompt was really tricky to figure out which canon character friendships were the first for them. So I finally picked "The Secret Garden" movies and the book for this prompt.

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 **53.) First friend**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **156**

Mary Lennox never had any friends. She had been too stubborn, too spoiled and too mean to even make friends. That all changed when she entered Misselthwaite Manor and met Dickon Sowerby, the first friend she ever made. Dickon charmed animals so well with his flute and they loved him for it. He even gave them the names they wanted to be called because that was the way of it. It was from being outdoors and hanging around Dickon, and eventually Colin Craven, that Mary's sourness melted away.

The Secret Garden always did that to people. It was the magic there that made them well and Mary knew it. She knew it was special, the moment she stepped through the door for the first time. It had become more beautiful with each passing day and that was all right. It was just enough for Mary and her friends to laugh, play and, in time, grow up.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	78. Radiance

I couldn't help picking on Galadriel in this drabble. So here it is. :)

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 **55.) Radiance**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **188**

Frodo wandered through Caras Galadhon for well over a month. Why was he there? Could it have been from his lack of wanting to go home? His need to get his wounds healed? All of the above? Well, he hadn't planned on the numerous suitors staring at one of the elves… oh no! It was Galadriel. What was she doing here, glowing so brightly? She looked so entrancing, so radiant in all her glory. Oh, how he longed to go over there and hug her.

He did hug her. He crept up to her and hugged her as tightly as he could. Was it enough to please her? He wondered as much.

"Frodo, what are you doing?" Galadriel asked, her radiant glow dimming.

"Hmm. Don't mind me," Frodo said with his eyes closed. "I'll just…." he opened them, gazing up at Galadriel's quizzical expression, ".…oh. Pardon me." He inched away from her, just as the suitors followed Galadriel over to a nearby brook.

He sighed. Oh well. At least he tried to get her attention. Did it work? No, of course not, but it was worth the try.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	79. Temper

Here's a drabble starring the dwarves. :)

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 **57.) Temper**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **159**

They say don't test a dwarf's fury, even in circumstances such as these….

"Where's the beer?" Gimli, the flaming red haired dwarf, asked, pounding his empty mug on the table. "Give me more beer! NOW!"

"Master Dwarf," Gildor the elf told him, in fury, "do not test me."

"And do not test a dwarf's temper, Gildor," Gimli said, annoyed. "Now I demand more beer, this instant!"

"That's your fifth mug of ale," the elf said, growing furious. "No more ale."

"MORE BEER! MORE BEER!" Gimli complained, pounding his mug on the table's wood surface. "More beer, more beer, MORE BEER!"

"Fine!" Gildor spat, enraged. He turned to the elves, telling them, "Give this dwarf more ale!"

"Ahh." Gimli said, pleased with himself. "This is the life." It certainly was for a dwarf, such as he, and he was loving every minute of it. All was peaceful at last. Nothing more needed to be spoken, except two words: the end.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	80. Guilt

**58.) Guilt**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **156**

Frodo collapsed on one of the cushioned chairs. He couldn't believe it: Bilbo had vanished and left him Bag End. But that was not what irked him most. It was the guilt he felt about not traveling with Bilbo on his next journey. He so longed to see him again, but how would he do that? Surely his uncle was all right by himself. Why then couldn't he go with him? He wanted to see Rivendell, Mirkwood and the Lonely Mountain.

He wanted to do all of it, and yet that was not to be so. He had no idea how perilous his own quest would be and all the dangers he would face… until it was too late to turn back. Until it was too late to do much of anything else. This was his fate, his destiny. He would just have to live with that pain and guilt for the rest of his days.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	81. Scales

This prompt was also tricky to figure out where it was heading. Luckily, an idea popped into my head that worked for this drabble. It follows the 1989 animated movie "The Little Mermaid".

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 **60.) Scales**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **171**

All Ariel wanted was to have human legs. Legs that could run, play and even hunt for seaweed and kelp. But that wasn't what depraved her. Her green fin was what caused her sorrow. The scales were very fishy, but it made her want to leave the sea. She wanted to explore the human world.

So, how was she going to do this?

The sea witch, Ursula, of course. Ursula could grant her legs, but what would be the cost? She couldn't wait any longer for an answer. She desperately wanted to go to the human world to be with the prince who won her heart. Eric was his name and she was his forever. She had to take this chance. For her life. For everything. There was no stopping her now. No, not anything. She would become human, one way or another and she would do it with Ursula's help.

The sea witch was who she needed and she would go to her, even if it cost her her life.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	82. Face to Face

Okay, so this drabble goes into the "Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic" games, especially towards one character.

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 **67.) Face to Face**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **114**

Revan had been through so much. For a brunette mullet haired Jedi, previously a Sith, Revan had seen a lot in his time. But after regaining his memories… the past just wouldn't leave him. He needed to find peace inside himself, and yet the faces. As if he was face to face with his former self, the infamous Darth Revan, from another time. He would have to search for a way in, to break through those memories and face the current Emperor. Even if that meant leaving Bastila Shan, his wife, and their unborn child behind.

He only hoped he knew what he was doing. For his wife. For his child. For the galaxy.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	83. Web

This prompt made me think of spiders.

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 **68.) Web**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **124**

Shelob creeped through the dark tunnels of her lair. Maybe she would have a filthy orc for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Enough to feed her babies. Oh, how they longed for a bite to eat. Flesh and blood was what they were after, and she had her own way of getting the meat she wanted, the meat she needed. She may have made that deal with that creepy crawly Gollum creature, but her thirst for more food was what slaked her thirst most.

And she was about to get newcomers entering her lair. All thanks to Gollum! Mmm. Yummy food. Her webs were ready. Now she was prepared to eat. Let the food come to her! And come it did, right into her lair.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	84. Canyon

Following with the Star Wars theme, this prompt brings us to one of the planets we know best.

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 **69.) Canyon**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **212**

Anakin Skywalker looked out past the looming canyon. Tatooine was such a simple place, filled with sand and rocks of all sorts. And yet, in many ways, it wasn't. Tatooine had been his home planet, his place where his mother lived, where she was kept safe. Tatooine meant the world to him. It meant everything to him. And now he was here, on this canyon, overlooking the Tusken Raiders' campsite beyond and below him. He would have to do it. He would have to make that leap to find his mother.

Now he stepped forward and jumped. Only then would he discover the truth and what would bring him on his first steps towards the dark side, following his mother's death and the rage thereafter. He wasn't prepared for this, but this was the fate he chose. Now, he was left with the consequences of his decision. Oh great. The Jedi wouldn't like this and he knew it in his heart of hearts to be true. Why then did he feel so cold? It was that cold that stilled his heart, made him think.

He made a very bad decision that day and there was no turning back from what he would soon transform into. He was a Jedi, but no more.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	85. Craft

Okay, so the first time Mildred Hubble, from _The Worst Witch_ , made her appearance was in my Hobbit Wizards series. Now, she's appearing again in this drabble. This is from the 1980s Halloween special "The Worst Witch" movie.

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 **71.) Craft**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **122**

Mildred Hubble never did anything right. She knew she got everything wrong, messed up everything. It was her craft, it was in her nature to be called "The Worst Witch". But now, in the midst of doing something wrong, she did something right. Her principal's sister caused great mischief, even claiming that she would take over the school as her own. Mildred would see to that by turning the principal's sister and her gang of witches into snails. Boy, did Mildred see the looks on their faces when she turned them back into hags.

It was a good day to the Worst Witch, who was no longer the Worst Witch. She was now an ordinary witch, much like everyone else. The end.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	86. Wrong

Now we're back to _Harry Potter_.

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 **72.) Wrong**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **142**

Hermione couldn't believe it. She was wrong! She got the answer _wrong_! How stressful! How annoying. Oh, how she longed to get the answer right, but it was one of those tricky questions. She needed time to think. She needed to rest and relax. Oh, what could she do? She couldn't possibly go through this alone.

No! NOOOO! She wouldn't let this happen to her….

….and she awoke in bed next to Ronald Weasley, her husband. She sighed in relief.

"What a horrid dream!" Hermione crossed her arms in vain.

"What?" Ron opened his eyes a little. "What are you talking about?"

"Just go back to sleep, Ron." She almost said 'wrong'. This was impossible. It was a dream, but it felt more than that. Come again, what was she dreaming about? She didn't know. Well, time to go back to sleep.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	87. Barriers

Gurgi comes from "The Black Cauldron" movie.

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 **74.) Barriers**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **414**

 _Barriers were meant to separate the worlds or bind them together in times of great need. Well, this was one such time and the characters involved had no idea what journey they would witness._

Hermione clanked the gavel against its wood platform. That called Frodo to attention, along with Gurgi, who lived in Prydain.

"Listen up! I know I'm right about everything, but in this case, I feel so wrong…" she stared at Frodo and Gurgi who weren't paying attention to her. She squawked, "… _listen up!_ This is very important."

"Hermione," Harry said, beside himself with concern, "we know it's important."

"Can I go home now?" Frodo asked, also concerned.

"Listen to me!" Hermione cried, annoyed. "I know what I'm talking about."

"Just what are you talking about?" Frodo bit back with his words.

"Gurgi wants a nice, chewy munchie," Gurgi, the furry brownish-grey creature, protruded. His stomach grumbled, agonizing him. "Ohhh! Gurgi is so hungry! Oh, Gurgi will be famished soon enough. Ohhh."

"All right, you may go get some sweets," Hermione said, giving in.

"Thank you!" Gurgi scuttled out of the courtroom.

Frodo shook his head. "Why can't I go with him?"

"Because I'm not finished with you," Hermione answered, serious. "Now, can you fill out orders? We need you in the infirmary."

"I'm not a healer," Frodo protested.

"Silence!" Hermione cried, annoyed. "Do this for us, please?"

"Hermione," Frodo inched closer to the podium, "I'm not a healer. You can count me out of that. What I can do is go home and you're going to let me go."

"Why should I do that?" she asked, confused.

"Because I long for home and I've been gone for ten days," he said with confidence.

"Why would you go back there?" Ron asked, concerned. "You don't belong there, as you said."

Frodo faced him now. "And yet, there might still be something for me." He admitted, facing the trio. "When I get back, I'll explore the Wizardry World. I won't be long."

"Okay, if you're sure…" Hermione was cut off by Frodo's exit. She shook her head. "He'll be back. He'll be back." And she meant it. Frodo did return the next day with a basket filled with mushrooms. Well, at least something came out from this experience. It was a trying day, but it was worth it. She felt more complete that way. Nothing more needed to be done.

 _Barriers connect worlds, but sometimes they bring friendships along with them._

The End.

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Thanks for reading. :)


	88. Stranger

We're back to "Star Wars".

o-o-o

 **75.) Stranger**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **142**

Darth Vader was a shell of his former self. A machine, a thing not to be messed with. He was a stranger in his own body. Was he still Anakin Skywalker? Hardly. He gave up that name the moment the mask was put on. The mask in the shape of a skull's face. That's what he had become. Nothing more and nothing less. He was Darth Vader, a Sith Lord. That's what he'd become and he knew it to be true.

His wife was gone, his former self was gone. There was only him now and his master. Power was what he cared about now and power was what Vader would receive, until the time came when his own son saved his life, brought him back to the Light Side. Only then was he Anakin Skywalker once more and it felt good.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	89. Festive

Here we are with the characters from the "Pirates of the Caribbean" movies.

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 **78.) Festive**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **149**

Jack Sparrow, the pirate with the tricorn hat and the black dreadlocked hair, took a seat in the Mad Badger inn. Oh, how long it had been since he had his last festive drink of rum. Days? Weeks? It did not matter! Rum was what he wanted and rum was what he was going to drink, even if meant wooing a few wenches and bar maidens along the way.

"It's a pirate's life for me." He said, taking another swig of rum. So good to be captain and he knew it. Boy did he know it. "A pirate's life for me." He repeated, drinking more rum until he was exhausted. He collapsed on the wood paneled floor, lost in his own imagination. Would he get more rum? Indeed he would. Yes, he would do that, just as soon as he woke up, which wouldn't be for another few hours.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	90. Helpless

Okay, we're down to the final ten drabbles before this challenge is complete! Once again, we're on "Star Wars", since there are moments when the characters have felt hopeless. This is one of those moments.

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 **79.) Helpless**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **216**

Obi-Wan Kenobi stood behind the red barrier, watching helplessly as his master, Qui-Gon Jinn, fought against the Sith Lord, Darth Maul. He couldn't do anything, but he so longed to do something about the situation. He couldn't defeat Maul on his own… or maybe he could. Either way… _no!_ It happened. Maul stabbed Qui-Gon in the stomach with his red lightsaber. Obi-Wan screamed, desperate to reach his master and make Maul pay for what he did. He had to think about the Light Side of the Force, but watching Qui-Gon collapse on the smooth floor… he couldn't take it.

The red shield lifted and Obi-Wan fought against Maul. He had this one chance to defeat him. On his fall and barely holding onto one of the silver ledges, he touched the Dark Side, feeling the rage seep through him. The feeling lasted for a moment, and then it was over. Maul fell into the pit and Obi-Wan rushed to Qui-Gon's side. The light side returned to Obi-Wan, filling him with peaceful coolness, but it was too late to save Qui-Gon, who passed away in his arms. He was alone and helpless once again, with only memories of his master's life and newfound understanding of the boy Anakin Skywalker, who he would soon train as his Padawan.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	91. Would it matter

Once again, we're at the pilot episode of ABC's "Once Upon a Time", only this time it's told from Emma's perspective. I figured since we've already got Henry's perspective, we might as well get Emma's point of view, in the third person of course. This is rated T for mild swearing.

o-o-o

 **83.) Would it matter**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **139**

Emma Swan had taken liberties to see that Henry Mills, her biological son, was safe and not in any danger. She already didn't trust the mayor of Storybrooke, Maine, Regina Mills, but did that mean anything? Would it matter if she upset the balance in this sleepy town? She'd damn sure hoped it would. So, where could she go from here? Granny's Bed and Breakfast seemed the right spot to spend the night in. Maybe for a week.

Already, she met Granny and her granddaughter, Ruby, but who was this Mr. Gold? What was his purpose in Storybrooke? Oh. He owned the town. That was… new. Now she needed a room to sleep in. And she got one with a silver key, which had a silver swan keychain attached. _Welcome to Storybrooke, Emma,_ she thought to herself. Welcome indeed.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	92. Danger

Now I'm delving into the fairy tales, especially on the fairy tale _Little Red Riding Hood_.

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 **84.) Danger**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **106**

Little Red Riding Hood couldn't have expected a more perfect day. She had the bread she bought from the baker and was now on her way to Grandma's house. No one could have expected her to meet a wolf inside the woods. She wasn't in any danger, not yet. Surely, she could survive this trip to Grandmother's house, but then she didn't expect actually meeting a wolf on the dirt road. She was gravely mistaken and would soon pay the consequences for her blindness, if it weren't for grandmother knowledge about wolves and what to do with them.

Another triumph on a perfect day. The end.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	93. Silence

Another _Chronicles of Narnia_ drabble.

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 **89.) Silence**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **528**

Susan Pevensie couldn't believe it. Her sister and brothers were really dead, due to the accident on the train. And she was alone, all by herself. A dreaded silence filled the air, one that she could not ignore. It was followed by a strange wind that seemed to pass by her as she walked away from her brothers and sister's graves, along with a voice that sounded all too familiar to her.

"Susan." It was Aslan's voice, the Great Lion from Narnia. He had come to greet her at last. "Why did you turn from me, child?"

"I'm an adult now," Susan corrected him.

The Lion laughed. "In many ways you are an adult, but at the heart, you are still a child." His lion form appeared before her. "Come with me. It is time for you to join your brothers and sister."

"But I stopped dreaming of Narnia a long time ago." She told him, clearly self-imposed.

"That may be, but I do not think you have forgotten Narnia just yet," Aslan said, guiding her forward. Susan had no choice. Since nobody noticed her, she followed the Lion through the wood. It was so peaceful here. It was here that Aslan faced her. "What do you see, child?"

"I see a path," she noted, staring at the dirt road peppered with wood chippings. "And a cherry tree. Pink."

"Indeed. That is the road we must travel to now," Aslan said, not turning away. "I know you must think it strange, but I must tell you something: you too have died and now you need to accept that Narnia is your home."

"I've already accepted Narnia, once, long ago," she said, not understanding how she could have died. "Aslan, I don't want you to think me mean. I'm just pointing out what I know."

"I will not press you, but now is not the time for subtleties," the Lion said, guiding her forward. "You cannot turn back, but you can believe and accept Narnia for what it is."

"But I already believe," Susan said, not understanding. "I know Narnia exists. It always has. What more do you want me to say?"

"Why, for some reason, are you intrigued with Narnian ways?" Aslan asked her, seeking an answer from her.

"Because I believe in something, I'm invested in seeking out Narnia to the bitter end. My family… they all passed away but me, and up until now I almost believed I wouldn't see Narnia again. Now that it's happened…" she understood now what Aslan was telling her, "…I want to go back to Narnia to see that it's safe."

"I'm afraid the Shadow Narnia has fallen. The Real Narnia is where we must go. Come now. It is time for you to be reunited with your brothers and sister," the Lion said, taking her up a sloping hillside that didn't cease to move. It was here, at the end of the road and close to a gate, that Susan was reunited with her family at last, as well as all the adventures to come, which brought her nothing but joy and happiness the more times she went on them.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	94. Laughter

**90.) Laughter**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **133**

Frodo slept peacefully that evening. The dream he had was so vivid: there he was rolling in the deep green grass, laughing merrily without stopping. There was Pearl Took, collapsing on top of him, also laughing. It was her laughter that gave him such joy, such love and passion. Oh, how he wanted her so much. They were so close, and yet something stopped him. He knew it all along. He couldn't have her. She was too girly for him. He knew better than to believe they were a match. He needed more than a girl that was into laces and dresses. He longed for adventure, but he couldn't have that with Pearl asking him all these questions. He had to break up with her, if not for her sake then his own.

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Thanks for reading. :)


	95. Go

A bit of "Transformers" in this drabble.

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 **92.) Go**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **129**

Optimus Prime, donned as a bright shiny truck with red and blue paint, zipped down the road in double time. He had to reach the other Autobots, now fighting against the enemy, the Decepticons. It was the only thing he could do from speeding into a ditch. He knew he could do it. If only he had a strategy in mind to keep his plan moving at full speed.

"Autobots go! Now!" Optimus said, transforming into his alien self and facing off against one Decepticon. "Your time ends now!" He said, breaking through the Decepticon's shell with his sword, dismantling it. The job was done. Now the wreckage needed to be cleansed. At least he'd done good this day. That was all he needed to say on the subject.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	96. Weave

Okay, so this is the first time I've tackled writing fanfics for the 2013 movie "Epic". Those who have seen the movie will know who these characters are, and I've done my best to describe them, too.

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 **93.) Weave**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **275**

Nod, for being a newcomer and learning how to be a Leafman, certainly had a knack for weaving in and out of situations, particularly when those situations involved riding his bird for the first time. He was a natural, and he knew how to throw himself into situations he couldn't quite ignore. He just had to fly, but that didn't settle with Ronin, who was wise and capable at flying hummingbirds. Surely, he could teach him the ropes.

"No," was Ronin's answer, "you're not ready for this."

"Come on. Give me a chance," Nod said, allowing his short locks of brown hair to do the talking, especially in front of a few young girls.

Ronin rolled his eyes. "Until you learn to become as skilled as I am, you aren't ready for anything." His hair may have started to grey, which matched their green clothes well, but Nod could tell when Ronin was keeping secrets from him.

"Come on." Nod repeated, not understanding. "I'm as talented as the next guy."

"Until you prove yourself, you're not ready for anything." That was Ronin's final word. Nod just didn't expect the next words to come. "The end of your training is coming. You had better be ready. The queen won't settle for less and neither will I." The queen was important in Ronin's life and Nod knew it. He just wasn't expecting _this!_ Oh well.

"I'd better start training then," was Nod's final word.

"There you go!" Ronin said, chipper now. "You'll do fine." And Nod knew it, even when he flew through the forest, riding on the back of a fair, and a bit stubborn, hummingbird.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	97. Sinking

I was in the "Galavant" mood.

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 **94.) Sinking**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **234**

Galavant, with his short brown hair and charming looks, couldn't move from his bed. Was he gaining weight? He certainly felt like he was sinking in his bed. Oh, he moaned. He would have to get up. But he didn't want to. Then again, where was Sid?

"Sid! Sid?!" Galavant called, managing to get out of bed. It would have to do. The front door opened by itself. "How odd!" He observed the door. "Is this door busted? Sid! Oh, there you are." He said, surprised to see his oily skinned squire.

"Galavant, they say a princess is coming," Sid said, worried. "Should I let her in?" He chimed with ease. "I think it would be nice to have a princess, and…"

Galavant yawned. "Remind me later."

"But sir—" Sid was cut off, as Galavant sat in a recliner.

"We need to fix that door!" Galavant said, folding his hands behind his head. "I'll need a carpenter."

"I'll send for one." Sid said, running off. He hoped the princess wasn't too late… oh, there she was and approaching the hovel. "Oh Princess Isabella, I wouldn't—"

"Galavant, your door's broken." Isabella said, annoyed. "You'll have to fix that."

"Ohhh!" Galavant moaned. Great! He knew he was supposed to fix that door. Why didn't he – nope! He was too lazy to do a simple task, such as fixing a door. What else was new?!

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	98. War

Death, in this form, comes from _Harry Potter_.

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 **96.) War**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **235**

Frodo had never experienced anything like this before. Soldiers dying right before his eyes, with swords clanging and clashing every which way. No! War had come upon the Pelennor Fields and he was a part of it. Not that he remembered how he entered the battlefield. He wasn't a part of this battle, but the War of the Ring he had taken part in during his part in the quest. He didn't kill anyone, but… seeing those men dying around him and the orcs scattering made things worse.

Was he ever getting out of this alive?

Wait. There was something dark heading towards him. A specter, something he hadn't seen before. But that face, the face of a skull… no! It couldn't be! It was. It was Death. What was he doing here?

"What do you wish?" Death asked him in hoarse whispers.

"What do I wish?" Frodo asked, clearly confused.

Death nodded. Honestly, what did Frodo want? Did he have to answer? Surely there was a way out of this mess.

"I wish to be alive and well," the hobbit answered.

Death cackled. "I cannot promise that. You must move on." He extended his hand. "Come. There is much to see."

Frodo didn't know if this was the right path. Then again, what choice did he have? He didn't have one. Giving in, he took Death's hand, awaiting his death as an old friend.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	99. A Bitter Victory

We come to the conclusion of the drabble War, in this case A Bitter Victory.

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 **98.) A Bitter Victory**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **322**

Death released Frodo, allowing him to see the carnage strewn across Pelennor Fields. It was a bitter victory. The enemy may have been defeated, but death remained out on the fields… it was too unbearable. The lives lost. How could Frodo allow this to happen? But something did happen. Death was no longer by his side. A gentle hand touched his shoulder. The hand belonged to Samwise Gamgee, who was worried about him.

"Are you all right, Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked him, concerned.

"I'm fine. Maybe," Frodo inquired, "maybe if things were done differently. Maybe if the Ring had been destroyed a lot sooner, then none of this would come to pass."

"Mr. Frodo," Sam said, not understanding, "the war is over. Why do you linger on it? Mr. Frodo!" A bright light engulfed Frodo's vision. He woke up, lying in bed with Sam's fierce gaze on him. What had he done?

"What a dream," Frodo said, sweat pouring down his face and chest. He was so hot and flustered, as if this new memory couldn't penetrate what he had seen.

"You were having a nightmare." Sam said, standing next to him. "You were so loud, screamin' like you had seen a ghost."

"I saw Death. He was there on the Pelennor Fields," Frodo said, shaken.

"Mr. Frodo, it was a dream. It'll be all right," Sam said, trying to comfort him.

Frodo breathed in and out, ready to get out of bed. "I need a drink of water."

"Right away, sir," Sam said, leaving the room. Frodo sighed, taking in his surroundings. He was in a white walled room with one window next to the door, as well as a bookcase on one corner and his bed in the center. It was so quaint, much better than the dream he had. He could breathe easier knowing that all was safe and well. He did it. He completed the quest at last.

o-o-o

Thanks for reading. :)


	100. Final Words

As we conclude this drabble challenge, we end the way we started with Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and their family. Sam's final words and that first sentence comes from the last sentence in _The Return of the King_ book.

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 **85.) Final Words**

 _ **Word Count:**_ **351**

 _He [Sam] drew in a deep breath. 'Well, I'm back,' he said._

Hermione closed the book. She couldn't believe how much she had read to her children and to her husband. Making it to the end of _The Return of the King_ , starting with _The Hobbit_ , was no easy feat. But here she was, finishing off reading _The Return of the King_ and still managing a warm smile. This was the best day ever!

"It's a shame we had to go through so much, just to reach this point." Hermione admitted to her husband.

"But still—" Ron was cut off by his daughter, who was clearly excited about something. "What is it, Rose?"

"Dad, do you think we'll ever find out what Frodo's doing now?" Rose asked, curious.

"Well…."

"Come on, Ron. You don't actually think Frodo would show up here? Not after what we did to him at the Ministry." Hermione told him, beside herself with concern.

"Hermione!" Ron cried, stunned. However, his finger pointed at the open door. There was Frodo, entering the kitchen. The hobbit shook his head, but smiled all the same.

"What are you reading?" Frodo approached Hermione, surprised to see his book trilogy in her hands. "Oh, 'The Lord of the Rings'." He smiled. "You didn't get to the Appendices, did you?"

"Frodo, any final words you'd like to say on this book, your quest and recently?" Hermione addressed him with ease.

Frodo sighed in wonder. Oh, where could he begin? "Just that everyone's safe and sound. No monsters, no curses. Just here, in this house, we're all right where we need to be." He smacked his lips. "Do you have some hot chocolate? My throat's a bit dry."

"Oh! I'll get straight to it straightaway!" Hermione said, rushing to the cupboards to get a mug. Even as Ron chuckled, Hermione was filled with joy. She loved taking care of him and their children, even though she and Ron had enough arguments to last them a lifetime. For now, everything was well and having Frodo in the house made things even better.

The End.

o-o-o

We are done with the second drabble challenge I have worked on. :)

First, I'd like to thank the following readers: Shadow, LadyLindariel, Eldhoron, Pip the Dark Lord of All, Gracie Miserables, and Jaya Avendel. Lastly, I'd like to thank all my readers who followed, favorited, read and reviewed this work. It is much appreciated. :)

This story and this challenge took me almost a year to complete. Within that time, I was working on _Strong Intentions_ , which is now complete. So, this is another feat. As for what comes next, I'm not sure where the drabble challenges are heading and what I'll do next with them. If something comes up, my readers will know. With that said, thank you for taking the time out of your busy days to read this work from beginning to end. And thank you for sticking around to the end. Really, I appreciate the thought. :)

See you in the next story! :D

 _Aria Breuer_


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